


The Affair

by beatleing



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hughmelza, romelza - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-18 11:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14212260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatleing/pseuds/beatleing
Summary: A couple of months after Ross slept with Elizabeth, Demelza makes a decision after a visit from Elizabeth.A life away and a chance to live what it should have been from the start... Or shouldn't?Post S2 - Canon Divergence





	1. November 1799

**Author's Note:**

> We start at the end, this chapter is from Demelza's point of view...
> 
> With much love to Ladymadchan, for taking the time to fix my grammar mistakes.

November 1799

DEMELZA

Demelza woke up that day like any other, before sunrise. Of course, by now she was used to not actually seeing the sunlight coming through the window, but she had even begun to become fond of the gray glow of London’s mornings. That day she stayed in bed a little longer. It had been so long since she felt that way, if ever she had actually felt like this at all. Ross had invited her to go to the ball on the occasion of the opening of the Parliamentary sessions, and for the first time in months, she had said yes to him.

Demelza wriggled on the bed and covered herself with the blankets. How could she be so anxious? But how could she not? These last few months since Ross had found her he had been so attentive to her. It had not been easy at the beginning. But then they had fallen in that state of infatuation, with Ross courting her like they were sweethearts. And she, slowly, had let him back into their lives and into her heart, but always refusing to give him that last token that she kept within her, no matter how gentle and loving he was with her and their son, she never let him take that last step in their reconciliation. But tonight, she had agreed to go with him to the ball. He was a Member of Parliament, therefore, he was invited to the Ball at the Court.  All of London’s society would be there. She knew, she just knew what he was planning to do.

She braced her arms around her torso, looking up and only seeing the white of the sheets over her face. But in her mind she saw him, a hand on her waist, introducing her to his acquaintances as his ‘wife Demelza’. In all this time she had not let him call her that, but that night she wouldn’t protest. She happily stood loitering in bed a few minutes longer, daydreaming about the night ahead, the past behind and the whole new life in front of them. And this time they were starting this new chapter as equals. The kitchen maid that she once was that had married her master had disappeared years ago. So had the poor and lonely miner that offered her marriage out of duty and to forget. She’d never thought that they could come together like this again, that they would find each other and fall in love all over again, this time he as respectable MP and she, a prosperous workshop owner.

When she heard Jeremy jumping on the stairs she decided it was time to get up, there was still a lot of work to do in the morning. After breakfast, the governess that Ross had hired for their boy arrived for his daily lesson and Demelza made her way to the shop. The women who worked with her at the sewing workshop were more than excited when they were told they would be given chance to make a dress instead of shirts or gloves for the British army, which was generally the most requested items of clothes they manufactured. And it was not just an ordinary gown, it was for a ball, a high society ball. They'd heard that even the Prince of Wales would be there. And the dress was for an MP's wife, more important, it was for Demelza, their boss and friend, one of the owners of the shop who gave them work and a chance to provide for their families. So they had ignored Demelza's instructions for a simple and modest gown and had put their minds to it and the most refined and delicate fabric they could find and the result was a spectacular silk dress, worthy of the finest Lady.

They were all there when Demelza arrived the day of the event, none of them wanting to miss the expression on her face when she would saw it.

_‘What have you done?’_ \- Demelza said to them in astonishment. _‘I told you I didn’t want anything too fancy!’_

_‘Well, nothing less than fancy is going to work tonight, Miss.’_ \- One of the seamstresses replied while the others giggled looking at Demelza surveying the dress, she hadn’t disappointed them with her reaction.

_‘But it’s too much! How did you…’_

The fabric, Demelza found out, was ordered from one of the ships who made trades with French goods. The brocade of the upper bodice was brought from Lisbon. Marianne had ordered it, and they all had worked on the trims and the embroidery on the hem of the skirt, delicate stitches that imitated the brocade. It was of a very pale light blue and it was perfect.

After a few hours of work, many thanks, good luck wishes and a few tears were exchanged, Demelza returned home with her dress to have tea with Jeremy and Prudie. 

 

* * *

 

_‘C'ptain Ross tis already here ma'am'_

_‘Judas! Here, help me with the pins, Prudie’_ – Demelza was sitting in front of her dresstable mirror, doing the plaiting on her hair. The afternoon had flown by, but she was almost ready. All there was left to do was to put on the dress. Prudie helped her to tie the laces at her back and she shivered when she imagined who would untie them later in the evening. When Demelza turned around, Prudie was drying a couple of tears that had escaped her eyelashes with her apron. _‘You've done well child’_ , she said with a tender voice, _‘Old Prudie is tha’ proud of ‘ee.‘ee come from far and below but tonight ‘ee would be the finest Lady of all, and ‘ee done it all by yourself, ‘ee look beautiful child.’_

_‘Oh, Prudie.’_ Demelza surrounded her shoulders with her arms in a warm embrace. _‘You know I didn’t do it by myself. I had your help. And Hugh's and Marianne's.’_

_‘Whatever it tis, ‘ee deserve it. Now, let's not make Captain Ross wait much longer, he waited enough already’._

_‘Prudie!’_ – They both laughed.

Demelza sent Prudie downstairs to say she would be ready to go shortly. She still had one more thing to do. From under her bed, she produced a small chest where she kept all her more meaningful belongings. She had kept it there, near her all these years, but she hadn't worn it since she had left Nampara nearly six years ago. It still fitted her finger perfectly.

With a last look at the mirror she went down, she could hear the voices of Jeremy and Ross deep in conversation. She had to take a deep breath to steady herself, her heart was about to jump out of her chest. It was Jeremy who saw her first over his father's shoulder.

_‘Are you ready mom?’_

_‘Yes, my lover.’_

Ross turned to see her then, and she noticed the little spark that shone in his eyes when he looked at her. He took a brief second, or had it been hours? His gaze traveled her body, from head to toe and then rushed near her and offered his hand to helped her. In the last step he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it and he froze with her hand in front of him, his head still bowed, when he saw her wedding ring on her finger.

_‘Demelza… you look beautiful, my dear.’_ – He said with a grin on his face.

Demelza believed that in that moment her cheeks must be as red as her hair. She smiled back at him, but couldn’t articulate a word, especially when he brought her hand back to his mouth and kissed it again where her ring was.

They departed after a farewell from Jeremy and his promise to her mother to not stay up until late. Ross linked her arm in his while they walk through the alley to the carriage, which was too big to get to her door in the narrow street.

_‘How was the session today?’_ \- She asked once they were sitting inside and rattling through the streets of London.

_‘Incredibly dull. I think I fell asleep during the last part of the King’s speech.’_

_‘Ross!’_

_‘What? It’s true. The man comes only once a year and uses the time to ramble about the most trifling subjects. Doesn’t matter that half of his people are dying from starvation, doesn’t matter that is a war right across the channel, doesn’t matter the supplies for our troops…’_

_‘I heard he’s not quite well… on the head.’_ Demelza interjected, pointing with a finger to her own head to make the point.

_‘Then God save us all… But enough of that, my love. Tonight I only want to think of you. Did I tell you that you look lovely?’_

_‘Yes, Ross. You did.’_ She heard her voice caress his name like in the old days and he seemed to notice it too because he leaned to her and brushed her lips with his. _‘No, I mean not just today. You look lovely every day.’_

Her heart was racing again, in that scarce and dark space with the occasional lights from the street lanterns illuminating their faces from time to time, she was sure he was able to hear its beating too. When their coachman managed to park the carriage in front of the entrance of the Court there was already a line of people waiting to get in, all dressed at their finest, the men with canes and galleys and the ladies with colorful bonnets and cloaks. Only a few of them paid attention to the just arrived couple at first. But all of them turned to look at them when one of the stewards opened his way through the crowd, calling and waving for _‘Captain Poldark’_. The man informed Ross that a meeting was to be held during the night, set up by the Prime Minister himself, Sir William Pitt. The Prince of Wales would be there and he wanted the House of Commons to be there as well. Ross barely nodded his is agreement, Demelza knew what he should be thinking, he had planned this night with her for so many weeks, but she didn’t care much if he was to be away from her for a few moments, surely the Prince above all others knew this was a party and he would not detain the gentlemen for too long. She squeezed his hand and smiled to him, and Ross ordered the steward to take them inside immediately, which brought another few glances from the people around them as they made their way to the beginning of the line.

They were announced as ‘ _Captain Ross Poldark and Mistress Demelza Poldark’_ , and with that, the entire London’s society found out that she was Ross’s wife. As their made their way down to the ballroom, Demelza contemplated the place, the large room was decorated so opulently that was on the edge of be indecent. She had never seen anything like it before, the splendor of Tehidy or Tregothnan Houses looked like merely country cottages compared to this. She also noticed that her dress was of the latest fashion, with much of the young ladies wearing the same cut, she thanked her friends internally at that moment. Despite the luxuriousness of the place and the refinement of the people, she didn’t feel out of place, but it was not her clothes or her hair what made her feel that way. It was Ross walking by her side, with his head up and a smile on his lips. As she predicted, he searched for any familiar face to introduce her as _‘my wife Demelza’_ , and Demelza bowed and shook hands smiling the whole time. Everyone was curious to meet her and they were all so kind to her. She would have to ask Ross what had he told them about her this whole time.

As the evening went on, Ross and Demelza danced a couple of pieces, a minuet and the gavotte, but then retired to a corner, Ross arguing a pain in his ankle but she knew he had noticed a few men looking at her, two of them even approached her and asked for a dance. But she refused them and stay happily with Ross, who after only a glass of brandy was unusually talkative and light headed and he spent a good part of an hour pointing people to her and explaining who they were and why they were worthy of his total contempt.

Shortly after Ross was summoned to the meeting she saw him for the first time. Making his way with the gentlemen to see the Prime Minister was George Warleggan. Demelza recognized the sound of his voice first and when she looked at him she noticed that he was very changed. Six years had not come with grace for George. He was much more robust, especially around the waist, with many wrinkles under his eyes. And the wig, Demelza suspected, hid more than many white hairs. She hoped that his presence would not shift Ross’ mood, and for that she also worked hard refusing the men that seeing her alone, asked more vigorously for her attention. There was one in particular that was the most insisting, and by chance happened to be there the moment dinner was announced served. As he offered his hand, Demelza looked around for Ross, but he was nowhere to be seen. Everyone was on their way to the dining room so she figured that Ross would most likely go to find her there.

The man, as he cheerfully said, was Monk Adderley, MP. _‘Shouldn’t you be at the meeting as well?’_ \- she asked him distracted, still searching for Ross. _‘Only torys are allowed, ma’am.’_

_‘Oh, and you are not one of them?’_

_‘No, not of that kind anyway.’_

The lustful look he gave her made her tremble and she tried to make excuses to stay in the ballroom but realized that if she stood there, soon they would be alone. So she placed her hand on his elbow, avoiding skin contact, and let him guide her to the table.

Luckily for Demelza, the room was busting with people. There were four long tables set across the room and one more ahead of them and some steps above, for the Prince of Wales, the Prime Minister and their retinue. Monk sat next to Demelza and tried to engage her in conversation but the talk around them was loud. The women to her other side and in front of her began to praise her gown and inquire her about the rare brocade and the dress confection, so Adderley didn't have much choice than to cease in his endeavor. She had noticed that on the first table in front of the royal one there were several empty seats, _‘They're for the most relevant Members of Parliament and their wives.’_ -the woman next to her whispered in her ear. Minutes later and little by little, the men who had been in the meeting made their way to the dining room. As she had been told, they took their place in the first table, some of them searched the room for their partners and waved for their wives to go and join them, others approached to where their dates were sitting and offered their arms to guide them to their new seats. A few came across the doors with their women by their side. Demelza realized that some of the ladies had waited for their husbands in the ballroom.

She saw Ross look back as he was about to enter and seemed to wait for someone. When he began to move again Elizabeth was at his side. Demelza dropped the fork she was holding on her plate, she felt the air evaporate from her lungs. _‘Are you alright my dear? You’re gone white!’_ She heard the woman say. Monk Adderley was paying no attention to her anymore. She nodded and drank some water but she never lost sight of them while they made their way to the table.

Elizabeth was talking to Ross and he was attentively listening. Unlike her husband, the years had not passed at all for Elizabeth, she was still as beautiful as the day she met her at The Red Lion a lifetime ago. And yet, apparently, held the same magnetism for Ross as that day. No matter everything that they had went through, no matter how miserable their lives had been because of it, she could still see them holding on to the possibility of a young lovers life that had not be. When they sat next to each other Ross was the one who was talking. Demelza was half expecting that he turned his head and look for her, but he was too invested in whatever they might be saying.

Through her mind a rush of thoughts reminded her of the last few months, since the moment he found her, his plea for her forgiveness and hers for his. The angry words and the tender kisses and always, always the same motto ‘Elizabeth means nothing to me’, ‘I was never happy with her, I’ve always wanted you.’ And then, here they were, again in the same plight as always, as if everything that all three of them had lived through in the last six years had meant nothing. Instinctively, Demelza searched for George but he was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly she wanted for him to come, for him to see his wife flirting with his greatest enemy and for him to make a scandal in front of the Prince and the Prime Minister. But he hadn’t come back yet and she didn’t want to belittle herself to be the one who made the fuss. Through the crowd she saw Ross smile to Elizabeth and she placed her hand in his and he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

_‘Child? You don’t look alright at all.’_

_‘I’m fine, I just need to get some air.’_

Monk Adderley stood up to go with her, but she pushed him as she went past him. She went out without her cloak, the ring no longer on her finger and the same old feeling of wildness and disappointment that had led her to leave him in the first place again within her.

 

 

 


	2. July 1793

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the beginning. Ross POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. And thank you to the lovely Ladymadchan for taking the time to check on this.

July 1793

ROSS

For the life of him, he never thought she would be able to do such a thing. Ross had spent the last four days away from home. Truro had been his first destination. There he met again with Tonkin and Blewitt. The last one had insisted on seeing him to thank him in person for the loan Ross had given him that had helped him and his family so much after the bankruptcy of the Carnemore Copper Company. Ross had not expected any additional gratitude. The debt had been canceled and that was enough. But in those days he looked for any excuse to be out of Nampara. And away from Demelza. They’d convinced him to go Looe with them to survey the boatyard. No matter that he’d told them he didn’t have a single coin in his pocket, or in the bank. He had sunken the last two hundred pounds in Grace again, together with all the rest of his money and all his life. It would have been easier if he would have buried himself in there too, like Ted. But even so, he went. It was a good business, he could tell. They were already overloaded with work and with the conflict in France, it was a safe gamble. Too bad he didn’t have a penny to bet on it.

It was a long ride home and the weather wasn’t amiable with him. The rain fell relentlessly in some parts of the way leaving him chilly and wet and clouding his sight. And it was not like if it were a sunny summer’s day he would have ridden home faster.  Even without the rain he would have been numb and cold. He had been like that for almost two months now, ever since that night. He didn’t even want to think about it. He had so many other things to think about, to do. The mine, he had to unearth that damn tin from the bottom of it, had to make a profit. He just didn’t have a penny to make an investment, he didn’t have a penny to pay the workers, didn’t have a penny to feed his family. That was his main concern. What had happened with Elizabeth, he couldn’t figure it out yet, didn’t want to comprehend it. It had been primal, like an unavoidable collision, something set in motion years ago and that have been burning and raging inside of him until the inevitable had occurred. And that was that, all that could be. He couldn’t do anything more, didn’t even know if he wanted more. He just wanted to move on, keep on working, just keep on living. But he couldn’t. Not when every time he got home Demelza looked at him like he was a stranger, if she even looked at him at all. No more greetings after a long day, no more fire waiting for him in the parlour, no more hands on his shoulders to help him release the tension after hours of hard work. After the quarrels of the first days, he really hoped Demelza would come to mind, she would have to eventually. It startled him to see her like that, Demelza had come to Nampara as a rough brat, but the hard edges had softened quickly and he had forgotten about that toughness. That harshness that comes from being raised by a drunken and abusive father was in plain view since that night in May. And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like that part of her, didn’t like that sharpness being directed towards him.  And weeks had passed since and things were still the same. He’d started to go home late and leave early in the mornings and they only met each other in the evenings. Sometimes they ate together and when the silence was too uncomfortable he would tell her about the works in Grace and about the news from France and she would nod and hurried to finish her meal so she could leave him to go to their bedroom, her bedroom, and he to the library. But with time, he was sure that with time, pieces would fall back in their place and they could go back to what they were.

That is why he didn’t see it coming.

He got to Nampara soon after midday. He’d thought of going straight to the mine but needed a change of clothes, probably a bath as well. He heard noises coming from inside, laughs and a cheerful tone and a female voice. Visits were not what he wished for right now but if it was good for Demelza… But it was not her in the house. _‘Uncle Ross!’_ , it was Geoffrey Charles who greeted him. Apparently, he had been playing with Garrick, because the dog also ran to him and began barking. Then he saw Elizabeth, she had been drinking tea by the fire and had stood when he entered.

_‘Ross…’_

_‘What are you doing here? Where’s Demelza?’_

He didn’t give her time to reply. He dropped his bag and the whip on the floor and went to the kitchen. There was no one there. _‘Demelza!’_ He tried not to raise his voice much. It would do no good to yell at her. He went to the second floor by the back stairs, didn’t bother on knocking her door. She wasn’t there either. _‘Demelza?!’_. One by one, he checked the rest of the rooms. He noticed Jeremy’s room was empty. His clothes were gone, and his toys. Then he went back downstairs. Elizabeth had sent Geoffrey Charles and Garrick outside. He could see them running on the fields through the window.

_‘Where is she?!’_

_‘Ross, if you’d let me explain…’_

_‘Where is she, Elizabeth?!’_ And he did yell at her then.

Slowly, Elizabeth went to the little table next to where she was sitting and picked up an envelope and came back to stand in front of him.

_‘She told me to give you this.’_

Ross took the letter from her hands and without a word to Elizabeth nor a question of what she was doing there again, went to the library and locked the door behind him. He sat in front of the desk. His hands were shaking when he opened the envelope. From it and with a thud to the table fell her wedding ring. He remembered what she said the very next day after that night _“Would you like me to throw myself from Hendrawna cliffs?...”_ But she wouldn’t, surely she wouldn’t leave him, she wouldn’t do that to Jeremy. But, where was Jeremy? Finally his eyes set on the letter, Demelza’s neat handwriting was a blur. He needed a few blinks before being able to read it.

 

_Ross:_

_I suppose there is no easy way to say this. But straight away, I am leaving._

_Ross, I finally understand what you must have felt all those years ago. After you came home from war and found the person you loved the most had given her love to another. I understand the sorrow now, the heartache. Ross, I can’t do what you did, I can not settle. Is not in me to live the life that we have been living since that night. I see you, I know you, I’ve always had and I know you won’t be able to do it. To do what you really want, to make true your deepest desire. And I know that what prevents you from doing so is me, and I can’t bear that either. I waited for you to make a decision this last couple of months, but you haven’t been able to do it, so I will do it for you._

_Ross, Elizabeth is with child. So I must go for you to do right by her. Jeremy will come with me of course. You should not worry about him. I'll raise him and he will miss nothing._

_I’ve talked to Elizabeth and she had let me be the one to give you the news, she must be waiting for you. Don't think about me Ross. Don't think that you have to come after me, you don't. Be with her. It is what you always wanted. Do what you have to do now, Ross. Stop hiding, stop lying to yourself and stop hurting the people who love you. I'm leaving, so you can do it._

_I’ll always cherish the time we had together._

_Goodbye Ross._

_Demelza._

 

* * *

 

He had to read it for a second time before he understood what it meant. Demelza had gone, she had left him. She and Jeremy, had both abandoned him. When he came out to the parlour again Elizabeth was still there. _‘Prudie!’_ ha called. _‘Did she tell you where she was going?’_ he half yelled again to Elizabeth.

_‘No, she just gave me the letter. Ross…’_

_‘Prudie?!’_

He found his servant in the barn. Before he had the chance to say a word she started to scold him. _‘T'int right, T'int fair, wha' ‘ee done t’ the maid! An’ now look at what’ happen’d…’_

_‘Where is she Prudie?’_ He tried to speak over her grumbles, but she didn’t shut up about how he had wronged his wife and how much he had hurt her. Not that he didn’t know it, he did. But all he could think now was that he had to find her, her and Jeremy. They couldn’t just leave. She was his wife for heaven’s sake!. _‘Where are they?!’_ He had to scream for her to stop.

_‘How can I know? She didn’t say, she just took off with master Jeremy.’_

_‘Didn’t you try to stop her?’_ – He understood perfectly well the look Prudie gave him. “You should have been here to try to stop her yourself.” _– ‘When did they go? Did she say nothing at all to you?’_

_‘They went th’ day before yesterday. She said she’ll tell ‘ee, and tha’ ‘ee should do what she said. That’s all. Then she an’ little master Jeremy said goodbye t’ old Prudie an’ left. Poor Prudie, left behind, but I tell’ee I’ll be no servant of her! Mistress Demelza was so kind and ‘ee push her away, and now I’ll have t’ do all the chores…’_

Ross left Prudie sobbing. There was only one place Demelza could go. He ignored Geoffrey Charles questions while he was saddling Darkie again, also the sight of Elizabeth looking at him through the window. The letter felt heavy in his pocket, the weight of ring was almost impossible to bear. But he didn’t have time for that now.  His only concern was to get to Demelza.

When he got to Illugan he realized that he didn’t actually know where Tom Carne’s cottage was. He had never taken Demelza back to visit her family. He had never talked to Carne again after Julia’s Christening. That had been enough. And in the trial, well, surely his father in law was going to hang him now. It took him a while to find the place, he’d decided not to go to the mine. Carne would probably be there, but surely not Demelza. At the end, one man in the village’s tavern knew one of the Carne brothers and showed him the way.

A tall and severe young man opened the door. Over his shoulder, Ross could see the inside of the cottage. It was half the size of his kitchen. There was only one bed and a couple of ragged mattresses stacked on it. He shivered thinking of Demelza living there…

_‘Yes? May I help ‘ee sur?’_ The boy said.

_‘Eh, yes. I’m Captain Poldark, I am Dem…’_

_‘Poldark?’_ \- A high-pitched voice said from behind the boy – _‘Ross Poldark?’_ Tom Carne’s little wife appeared before him. Ross took his hat off. The woman adjusted her glasses to see him better, he wondered if she would recognize him. She had only seen him once and now he was sure he didn’t look at all like the man she met.

_‘Has something happened to Demelza?’_ – she suddenly said concerned. _‘Is that why you are here?_ _God have mercy! Is she alright? Had something happened to the child again?’_

_‘She’s fine’_ – Ross said and prayed he was right. – _‘They are both fine. I’m just passing and… and Demelza wanted to send her regards.’_ He lied. The young man eyed him suspiciously but the woman seemed pleased with his reply. For a moment he lost notion of the situation, he felt lost, where else could Demelza be? She didn’t know many other people. Could she have gone to Dwight? To the Martins? To Sir Hugh Bodrugan?

_‘My name is Samuel, we’ve never met before, Captain Poldark.’_ The boy said, bringing him back to reality. He shook his hand while his stepmother invited him in.

_‘I thank you ma’am but, like I said, I’m just passing on my way home.’_

‘ _Tell her to come to see us. Her brothers miss her, even father. Please tell her, her brother Sam always think of her. And Drake, he wasn’t more than a little lad when she left but he never forgot her.’_

He barely managed to keep his composure and bide them farewell. He promised to give Demelza their message even when he didn’t know if he would be able to. It was already dark, by now Demelza had been gone for more than two days. She could be anywhere. He would go to Truro, ask the carriage drivers if anyone had seen them. Someone had to, but he should have to wait until morning for that.

On his way back he stopped by the Martins, and he had to make up another excuse for disturbing in the middle of the evening because Demelza was not there either. He had forgotten about Elizabeth. He returned to the house tired and stray, climbed the stairs to the bedroom when he saw light coming from under the door. With a mix of relief and excitement, he went into the room only to find Elizabeth there, in Demelza’s bed, a candle on the bedside table and a book on her hands. He didn´t know what shocked him more, Demelza not being there or the sight of Elizabeth resting on his wife’s place on their bed. He had to sit on the chair Demelza kept next to the fire, he couldn’t speak, all he could do was wonder how he had got to this place, to this moment in his life. He remembered the letter. It began to weigh in his pocket again. He read it once more and when he finished Elizabeth was standing in front of him.

_‘Ross…’_

_‘Did she give you this in person?’_

_‘Yes. Ross, she told me that she’ll tell you about…’_

_‘Didn’t she say anything else to you? Where she was going?... Something?’_

Ross hadn’t raised his head from the piece of paper he was holding so he just felt Elizabeth shake her head in response.

_‘Ross. If she didn’t say this, then I must tell you…’_

_‘That you’re with child?’_

_‘Yes.’_ She whispered, and he could sense her surprise for the lack of sentiment in his voice. But he could see clearly now how she rested one hand in her belly in front of him.  And with the other reached for his; that due to the numbness in which his body was submerged, did not lend any resistance when she placed it on top of hers.

_‘Ross… life is giving us a second chance, a new opportunity to set things right, to live the life that should have been. To be together, Ross, to have a family… to love each other.’_

_‘I… I have a family.’_ He mumbled, raising his eyes to meet the face of the woman who once was the love of his life.

_‘It is what she wants, Ross. She told me, she wants you to be happy and she knows the only person with whom you would be ever happy… it’s me. And I am pregnant Ross, surely you want to do what’s right.’_

His gaze wandered to where their hands were resting. A child with Elizabeth. Is this what he always wanted? It seemed that to both of them, Demelza and Elizabeth, the answer was yes. But he had been wondered that same question since that night in May and he couldn’t find a sure answer. Years ago, when he was in America, the answer would have been without a doubt, yes. He had known no other certainty than his love for Elizabeth. And now? Was that certainty still true? And… did it even matter?

Demelza was gone, Elizabeth was here, bearing his child. Was there really something else he could do? She kept gazing at him and all he could do was what he thought was the most honorable thing to do in that circumstance. He slowly nodded.      

 

 

  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. Is heartbreaking. Can´t help it.  
> Thanks for reading.


	3. July 1793

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and her first day at Nampara...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. Beta'd by the lovely Ladymadchan

July 1793

ELIZABETH

Elizabeth’s first night under Ross Poldark’s roof was not at all as she had imagined it would be. She wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. It was a strange situation for everyone involved but especially for her. She was the one relinquishing her whole life. She had waited for Ross for weeks. He’d said she should wait for him, so that was what she did. She’d cast George away and kept home, the Poldark’s home. She waited for the man of the family to come and take the place that was his by birth and right. But Ross never came.  And what could she do? She thought about going back to George, to ask for his help again. He’d remained distant after he called upon her a couple of times and she didn’t receive him. She knew Ross wouldn’t like it. But the household needed management, the fields someone to work on them and the debts, payment. She couldn’t endure much longer.

Elizabeth’s world turned upside down one morning a couple of weeks ago. She woke up sweating and with nausea. It didn’t occur to her at first. She thought her nerves were playing tricks on her. But at some time that morning she put two and two together. She had missed her period the month before, with everything that was happening she hadn’t noticed. Francis had died long ago, she was going to be ruined… She wrote to Ross that very same morning, didn’t say why but asked to see him. And again, the waiting. In vain. He left her with no other possible choice. Four days ago, she had ridden to Nampara determined to ask Ross to finally do what was right from the moment they met. He hadn’t done it before. He hadn’t done it when he should have prevented her from marrying Francis. His inaction causing all this hassle in their lives. But now Francis was gone and Ross had shown her that he still wanted her, still loved her.  And it was her right too, to have a man who cared for her and her family, someone to love her and someone she loved back in return. But the meeting she hoped for didn’t happen then either. Ross was not at home and according to his servant no note coming from Trenwith had reached the house. She was about to leave when Demelza came walking from the yard to the front door. Elizabeth noticed the little falter in her step when she saw her, how she raised her head and pushed a strand of red hair behind her shoulder. The servant clumsily curtsied and ran inside leaving the two of them alone. The look in her eyes told Elizabeth that she knew. Demelza knew what had happened between her and Ross.

_‘Demelza. Good morning.’_ Elizabeth bowed her head a little.  But not too much and she noticed that Demelza did not.

_‘What brings you here, Elizabeth? Has Ross sent you for his clothes?’_

_‘Oh… no.’_ Demelza´s answer startled her. What did she say and how did she say it. Elizabeth didn’t know quite well what to do. She was still standing near the gateway of Nampara, but Demelza had moved under the threshold, her back to the inside the house, protecting it. _‘I wanted to speak to Ross. When is he coming back?’_

Confusion clouded Demelza’s countenance for a brief moment but it didn’t translate to her voice. _‘I don’t know, didn’t he tell you? Even if he didn’t I wouldn’t be worried if I were you, Elizabeth.  I’m sure he’ll soon be back to you again.’_

With that Demelza turned around and meant to go inside but Elizabeth stopped her. Without thinking, she grabbed her arm. As Demelza pulled away from her, she began yelling at her: _‘How dare you? Comin’ ‘ere asking for ‘im… Wait for him to come back to you in your own house!’_

_‘Demelza, you seem to imply that Ross has talked to me lately… he didn’t. I’ve been waiting for him, you see… we have to talk.’_

_‘What do you mean? These last couple of months…’_

She certainly knew. But it confused Elizabeth, that Demelza would think that Ross had seen her. If it wasn’t so.  Why would Ross let her think that? Maybe, maybe that was his intention, but seeing how Demelza had reacted he could not just go. Maybe he was slowly drawing away from her… But why hadn’t he gone to see her, if Demelza was so sure that he would tell her where he had gone?

_‘I have not seen him. Not since… not since then.’_

Demelza looked paled under the threshold. The sun didn’t reach her face and she muttered something that Elizabeth could not hear. How, she wondered, how had this creature come from misery and poverty to become such a major part of their lives? She remembered the first time she had seen her, a brat disguised as a boy. She knew right then and there that she will only bring trouble for Ross. And she hadn’t been mistaken. Ross and his whim to do things right, to be honorable, had wed her. And she had grown from that trumpery young girl to be his wife. No shame to be the talk of the village for years. She walked by his arm during all this time when she, Elizabeth, had not dared to do what a scullery maid could. Disregard the gossip and just live as she wanted. She could even admit to admire her. But Elizabeth believed she could be brave too. And now, now that Francis was gone and now that she was carrying a child from Ross, it was time to set things right and she was determined to endure the scandal that was to come as well.

_‘Demelza I need to talk to you. I wanted to speak to Ross but if he’s not here there’s no reason for you to not know as well.’_

They sat in Nampara’s parlour a moment later. She told Demelza that she was with child. It only took a second to Demelza to figure out what she meant, who the father was. Only a second for her eyes to be clouded by tears, though not one was shed. Silence grew around them, Demelza watching her with a lost look and Elizabeth went on saying what she believed was her right.

‘ _You see, my dear. You must let Ross come to me. Don’t hold onto him anymore. He had given you more than you could ever have imagined.  You served him well. And he has done what it was proper for a gentleman to do. But now he has other duties, new responsibilities. And you know this is what he always wanted. I was yellow when he came back from America, I know that now. I shouldn’t have married Francis… but, but now Francis is gone and I am free and I know that Ross loves me. He has done so since the moment we first met. And you know too that he still does. Hasn’t he spent more time in Trenwith than here in the last year? So you must understand. And you must be devoted to him now as you were when you were his servant. I’ll make sure that you and your son miss nothing.’_

Elizabeth parted from Nampara with no more than a couple of words and nods from Demelza before she got to the door. She never knew about the rage of tears and anger and despair she left behind that day.

Early the next morning she renewed her habit of pacing around the house, looking through the windows expecting Ross to come. That’s when she saw her coming, walking rapidly across the green fields surrounding Trenwith. Elizabeth went to meet her by the band of trees near the ruins of what once had been the ancient house. It was the first property in those lands before the Poldarks had joined the Trenwiths and had started the construction of a more luxurious building, or so had Francis told her. In any rate, she didn’t want Demelza in her house, not when the servants or Aunt Agatha or Geoffrey Charles might hear what she was going to say.

_‘Has Ross come back?’_ Elizabeth asked approaching her.

_‘No. I think he said he was going to Truro, he usually stays there when is too late to ride. Or has other meetings._

_You… I am telling you this for you to know, to get used to him.’_

Elizabeth didn’t understand why Demelza was saying this to her, and seeing her hesitation she searched for something inside her cloak. She produced an envelope.

_‘Would you give this to him?’_

_‘What is it?’_

_‘You’re right. Ross will want to do what’s proper when he finds out you’re expecting his child. So I must leave. All I ask is that you give him this and, and let me be the one to tell him about your… situation. It will be for the best. He’ll take it better coming from me.’_

And that was it for Demelza. She put the envelope in her hands and went away leaving Elizabeth speechless in her feeling of relief. Because there was nothing else that would interfere between her and Ross anymore. After two more nights waiting she was beaten by impatience and went back to Nampara. The house was empty.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth woke up by the racket of a closing door. The sun had not yet come out, but its blaze echoed against the closed curtains of the windows in the master bedroom of Nampara. She couldn’t bring herself to get up. The linens and mattress were soft under her weary body, still tired from the commotions of the last couple of days and from the weakness that pregnancy always brought her.

She woke up again hours later, brightness reaching all the corners of the room now, bile coming up her throat. Not knowing her whereabouts, she vomited in the washbasin that was on top a cabinet next to an empty jar that she wished had water on it. After a few moments, the nausea passed but left her with a stinging headache. Used to being awakened and dressed by a maid, Elizabeth climbed back into bed and called _‘Hello?’_ to the silent house. It was Geoffrey Charles who came to see her. The boy had always had a restless attitude about him, and he told her he’d been awake for hours, had heard his uncle Ross go out with the first rays of sun, put himself some breakfast with goods he had found in the kitchen and had been reading mining books in his uncle’s library since then.

She sent Geoffrey Charles to look for Mrs. Paynter. It took a good portion of an hour until Elizabeth heard grumbles and her son’s voice coming up the stairs. The boy appeared to be dragging the woman from her sleeve when they entered the room.

Elizabeth could not recall the maid’s first name. She knew she was Jud Payter’s wife and that she’d been living in Nampara since the time of Joshua Poldark, but she hadn’t seen her often over the years. Not since Demelza started to live there. Demelza was the one who tended the guests and the one who went to the village, therefore Mrs. Paynter was practically a stranger to her. But apparently not she to her, judging by the way the old maid looked at her, like she had been interrupted from a significant task and she was wasting time being called by her.

_‘Thank you Geoffrey Charles, you can leave us now.’_ The boy nearly had to push Prudie Painter away from the door and inside the room for she was standing, hands on her waist, ready to flee at any moment.

_‘Mrs. Paynter, forgive me, I did not a give an explicit instruction to you yesterday, but I was expecting to be woken up for breakfast each morning…’_

_‘Ar’ee not able t’ wake up alone?’_ The maid retorted.

_‘Well… yes. But I need someone to help me get dress…’_

_‘’ee don’t ‘ave a maid in Trenwith?’_ \- She interrupted her again.

_‘What time is breakfast served?’_ Elizabeth asked more firmly this time.

_‘What time ‘ee make it? There’s flour in the kitchen an’ some fruit in the pantry, an’ there’s a cow t’ get milk t’ make butter. An’ chickens t’ collect eggs…’_

_‘I’m sure that’s your job! Mister Poldark will tell you…’_

_‘Cap’n Poldark has enough on ‘is plate t’ be worrin about tis. I think ‘ee an’ little master Poldark should be back at yur house the sooner the better!’_

The impertinence of Mrs. Payter made Elizabeth’s headache pulse back in her forehead. Suddenly she paled and felt a little faint. A slight pain crept into her belly.

_‘Are ‘ee alright?’_ Elizabeth nodded resting her head against the pillows.

_‘Just, just bring me some tea.’_

_‘Seem like ‘ee need a doctor as well. I’ll fetch for Dr. Enys.’_ \- With that the woman left her, not without a final distasteful look before she closed the door. It was Geoffrey Charles who brought her the tea with some bread. She asked him to leave her alone again so she could rest.

Dr. Enys arrived in the early afternoon. Though she still felt tired, the aching had passed leaving her just with a little clumsiness that Elizabeth knew was proper of her state. The doctor seemed surprised to find her there.  His blue eyes were wide open when he entered, like he had just come to prove someone mistaken and had failed.  But he quickly composed himself and offered the kind smile that was always present when he called on her.

_‘Misstress Poldark, they’re telling me you feel unwell, what's aching you?’_

Elizabeth wondered who “they” were but left the question unspoken. _‘Oh. Naught too serious. Just a little migraine.’_

_‘Let's see…’_ Dwight checked her temperature and her pulse. _‘You do look a bit pale. Any other symptom? Dizziness?’_

_‘No.’_

_‘Chills?’_

_‘… no.’_ She denied.

_‘I'm sure is nothing. Nausea?’_

Elizabeth went silent. She could not lie to a doctor…

_‘Ma'am?’_

_‘As a matter of fact, yes. I did suffer from such disposition a few days ago. Twice… and then again today.’_

_‘Then I will prescript something for your stomach, I'm sure it must have been something you've eaten.’_

_‘That won’t be necessary.’_ She said cautiously. Dr. Enys was already by his briefcase searching for some balsam.

_‘I think it must be something else…’_

Dwight went back to sit next to her. _‘I think I might be pregnant.’_

Elizabeth saw and heard several things at the same time. First, he saw Dr. Enys’ eyes drawn to the shape of her belly that was laying flat under the covers, a fleeting shadow running behind his eyes. Then he looked up at her, confused, trying to do the maths in his head until it dawned on him. Francis had been dead for several months now and she wasn't showing. Afterwards, he looked around, realization reaching his mind.

There was a noise down the stairs before any of them could say something more. Ross had arrived and he seemed to be arguing with the Paynters.

_‘Forgive me, ma'am.’_ Dwight said to her. _‘Then this is just a consequence of your fragile condition. All I can recommend is for you to rest, your aches are perfectly normal for your condition.’_

He quickly gathered his things and left. Elizabeth quickly followed him, creeping silently behind him trying to not be noticed. He went to the kitchen and closed the door. She couldn't resist it. Carefully she approached enough to hear…

_‘Thank God you're here.’_ It was Ross. _‘I stopped by your house and didn't find you.’_

_‘Where is Demelza?’_ \- She heard Dwight whisper.

_‘You mean… you have not seen her?’_

_‘Seen her? Where is Demelza, Ross?’_ There was silence and it was Dwight who spoke again…

_‘And Jeremy? Ross?’_

_‘I… I don't know. I went to Truro, asked around the carriages but nobody saw her. The Red Lion, I went to Illugan but she's not there…’_

_‘What do you mean? Where did she go? What did you do, Ross?!’_

_‘I… I wasn't thinking.’_

_‘So its true…’_

_‘What is?’_

_‘I just came from upstairs, from your wife’s bedroom! Elizabeth tells me she is pregnant. Is it yours?’_

Elizabeth held her breath from behind the door, she didn't hear Ross answer, just the cry of Doctor Enys…

_‘How could you? Are you insane? How could you do that to her?!’_

_‘I did nothing to her! She shouldn't have gone!’_

_‘There's a pregnant woman in her bed!’_

The dog began barking and a racket of furniture being drag against the floor followed Dwight’s chastisement. It appeared he had pushed Ross, for Elizabeth heard him grumble his friend's name. The struggle didn't last long…

_‘I thought you were an honorable man, Ross…’_

_‘Dwight, you must help me, this is a terrible misunderstanding…’_

_‘Elizabeth is expecting your child!’_

There was silence again.

_‘Then there is no misunderstanding at all. I will not help you, Ross. You brought this on yourself.’_

The door went suddenly open startling Elizabeth. She had to give a quick step back to not crash with Dr. Enys who left the kitchen with hurried pace and an angry look on his face like she had never seen on him before. He didn't look at her.

Slowly, after he left the house, Elizabeth made her way to the kitchen. Ross was sitting, elbows on the table, his face in his hands, the dog still barking at him at his feet.

_‘Ross…’_

_‘Not now Elizabeth.’_ He barely whispered.

_‘Ross, I think we must…’_

_‘I said not now!’_

With that he stood up and left, leaving her alone in the strange kitchen of Nampara.

 

 


	4. September 1793

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demelza finds a new home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely Ladymadchan for taking the time to check on this.

September 1793

DEMELZA

After a few weeks of trepidation, Demelza was finally settling into her new life. Hard labor was what she needed, to occupy her mind, to not think. And there was always something to do in the Armitage Manor.

Demelza had arrived at Exeter two weeks after she left Nampara. The first days away from home had been long and tiring. She had packed only a few belongings, knowing that she would have to carry them and Jeremy for a long while.  But her little boy had not complained and he was very well behaved along the journey. Together they walked all the way to Illugan. Demelza knew how to avoid the usual roads to prevent them from being seen. She had pace from her father's house to Sawle numerous times when she was a child after all. They’ve arrived at Luke's cottage by sunset.

Luke was the eldest of her brothers. He had written to her a year ago to tell her he was going to be wed and was going to live with his wife near her family home. He had asked for her to go to the wedding. But in those days Demelza had her mind on other troubling business, and with her husband joining a smuggling expedition, she had forgotten even to tell Ross about it when he came back. So she was sure Ross knew nothing about it, not that he ever cared much about her family. But she knew he wasn't going to look for her in her brother’s house if he even did look for her.

Only one year apart, Luke knew about their father's hand as well as she did.  He didn't maintain any bond with the old man and only occasionally saw the rest of his brothers when they crossed paths working in the mine. He and his wife welcomed Demelza and Jeremy with open arms. They took them into their small home and gave them shelter. While Jeremy slept she told them what had happened, since the beginning.  About how she had ended up marrying her master knowing his heart belonged to another and how everything had ended the day before and why she was running away. It warmed her heart that her brother was so upset, it made her feel that she was not so alone after all. She and her sister in law had to stand in front of the door to prevent him from going and killing her husband as he said he would. But Demelza said to her brother she didn't wish any harm to him. She knew what she was getting into all those years ago, and she wished for him to be happy, that’s all she ever wanted.

Luke didn't quite believe her, not when she had weeped all the time she was telling what had happened and not while her lips still trembled even days after they had arrived into his home. But all Demelza wanted was to stay for a few days, until he would stop looking for her and he’d be settled in Trenwith. Because he would look for her, of course he would. She was his wife, his property to do as he pleased. To be at home as a facade while he spent his time at Trenwith with his real family, the family that he always wanted. Elizabeth, the love of his life, Geoffrey Charles, and now a newborn of his own. So she couldn't do more than leave, as much as her brother and wife asked her to stay with them, it was too close. Too close for her to be, for people might see her and recognize her and gossip traveled fast. And too close for her to resist the temptation to go back and see him.

They had learned that in fact, Ross had gone to Illugan. Luke had met his brother Sam on the way to the mine a couple of days later and he had sent his regards from the sister that was actually staying with him. She feared Ross would come back to look for them further, but that didn’t happen.

Changed into her sister in law’s clothes, Jeremy and Demelza said their farewells to her and went on with her plan. It had been Prudie’s idea. Before she went to work in Nampara, before she’d even met Jud, she had worked, or so she said, as a maid in a small house together with another girl. When their master passed away, the other woman went to work in a larger house. But Prudie, knowing the work would be harder, preferred to stay where she was hoping to catch a man who could support her. By chance, she had met with her old friend years later and she’d told her she had become the housekeeper in that household and if she ever needed a job she could count on one there. By that time Prudie didn’t need a job but she always kept that proposal in her mind and so she had told Demelza she could go and ask for work there on her behalf.

Luke kept them company along the way and helped her find the house in Exeter, according to what Prudie had told her. When they’d found it was not just a simple house, it was the most splendid mansion Demelza had ever seen. It had a garden full of trees and flowers and water sources with colorful fishes. Luke ran away as soon as he was sure Demelza would be safe.

She told Mrs. Kerr she was Prudie’s daughter who had been widowed recently and she needed a job so she could provide for her son. Prudie’s old friend was a severe-looking woman but she remembered her funny friend fondly and hired Demelza as a maid for Lady Armitage.

Jeremy fitted in comfortably too. He was not the only child in the house and one of the young girls was responsible for taking care of the children while their mothers worked. It seemed there was always something to do or hurry about.  But Demelza welcomed the distraction and every moment she was not helping Lady Armitage to change or take her breakfast or tea, or sewing her clothes or polishing her shoes, every moment Demelza spent with Jeremy. But in the back of her mind, always, there was this cloud. She wondered if she would ever stop thinking about it. She couldn’t, couldn’t ever, identify quite precisely what she felt. Sorrow and anger. Pity and discontent. She tried very hard not to think of him and when she caught herself doing so she forced herself to think about Elizabeth and that night. She pictured them together in each other arms and thought of Ross and saw him saying “I love you” to Elizabeth and she knew he meant it and so the sweet anger came back again. Therefore she worked, more than any other in the house, and soon she won the trust of Mrs. Kerr and Lady Armitage saw her value.

_‘You seem to be enjoying that book rather much.’_

Demelza startled. Lady Armitage had gone to take tea in her neighbor's house and with all her chores done she was walking with Jeremy in the gardens until he had fallen asleep in her lap while she was reading to him under a tree.

_‘I am sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Allow me to start again, ma’am. My name is Hugh Armitage.’_ He said extending his hand and bowing.

A habit for years, Demelza put her hand lightly on his. _‘Oh, you didn’t, sir. I was just… Are you Mrs. Armitage’s son? Lieutenant Armitage? The one she speaks so highly of?’_

_‘I am. Though I’m afraid I've given her no reason to speak highly of me, but in view that I am her only son I doubt she can mistake me with somebody else.’_

Demelza chuckled and the young man’s face also brightened with his mischief. He was slim and tall, even when she was sitting and he standing next to her she could notice. He was not at all the image she had pictured in her mind from her Mistress’ tales of her son, the war hero. Although every soldier were in their own right heroes, she could tell the stories about Lieutenant Hugh Armitage had most certainly been embellished by a loving mother.

_‘And now you're laughing at me. From respected soldier to garden buffoon… ahhh, don't you think life is a fool's irony?’_

_‘Forgive, sir. I didn't mean to laugh at you. You surprised me, that's all. Your Ladyship didn't expect you for another two weeks.’_

_‘Well, she’ll have the French to thank for that. For we had to hastened our escape from them as they followed us and we ended up in a port much closer to home, which thankfully avoided me a visit to dull London.’_

_‘Do you not like it?’_

_‘London? With its noisy streets and smelly alleys? No, I rather much prefer the countryside, with open skies and quiet fields dancing along the autumn wind and pretty girls reading in blossomed gardens… Why? Do you like London?’_

_‘I've never been there, sir.’_ Demelza answered slightly blushed.

_‘Then you miss nothing, miss… I'm afraid I forgot your name.’_

_‘That's because I haven't said it to you yet Sir.’_

_‘Wait! Don't tell me. I believe I can guess it. Let me think…’_

Hugh sat on the grass next to her, a hand on his chin and his boyish eyes narrowed, thinking.

_‘How about Alys? Do you think that there is an equal balance of power between men and women is necessary in a society?’_ He said after a few moments of contemplation.

_‘What? No, it’s not Alys.’_

_‘Then Ophelia, an angel in heaven…’_

_‘No. And thank the Lord for that, as poetic as her death had been it’s not a name I wish to have. Let me just tell you, you’ll never guess.’_

_‘It cannot be Aphrodite, that would be too obvious. How about Antheia? Goddess of gardens and flowers…’_

_‘It’s Demelza.’_

_‘Demelza?’_ Hugh repeated, caressing her name.

_‘Yes, Demelza. And I am Lady Armitage’s maid.’_

_‘It’s a lovely name. Demelza. What does it mean?... There you are, laughing at me again. What did I say now?’_

_‘Nothing. It’s just, no one had ever asked me that before. It means “thy sweetness”.’_

_‘Quite appropriate. Do you have a last name?’_

Poldark. Demelza thought. That had been her name, Demelza Poldark, but no longer.

_‘Carne. Demelza Carne.’_

_‘Very glad to make your acquaintances ma’am.’_ Hugh reached for her hand again and this time took it to his mouth to kiss it. _‘And who would be this sleeping young fellow?’_

_‘My son. Jeremy.’_

_‘Jeremy Carne. I am very glad to meet him as well.’_

Demelza had every intention to gainsay that last statement but she said nothing. She had known it would be necessary to change their names in case anyone could recognize the name Poldark. Nobody knew Carne, they could be anyone from anywhere. But still, it hurt more when she thought of Jeremy not carrying his family’s ancestral name.

_‘Are you still here?’_

_‘Oh, yes. I’m sorry, sir.’_

_‘Hugh. Please.’_

_‘Sir. I don’t think it would be proper... Anyway, we must be going back in.’_

_‘But my mother is not home.’_

_‘There’s work to do anyway, and Jeremy must have his meal.’_

Hugh took the book she was holding and helped Demelza to stand. He stood beside her while she picked up the little boy.

_‘Mrs. Kerr says you’re a widow.’_

She turned to him, she was right.  He was a few inches taller than her.

_‘Was it in the war?’_

Demelza nodded.

_‘My condolences ma’am.’_

_‘You shouldn’t call me that. I’m a maid.’_

_‘You don’t look like one to me. I don’t know any maids who enjoy reading Shakespeare's Sonnets so much as you seemed to be enjoying it.’_

_‘Well, now you know one. Have a good day Lieutenant Armitage.’_

 

* * *

 

_‘I noticed you have a new maid Mother.’_

Hugh Armitage said as Demelza entered the library to bring her Ladyship her tea. She almost dropped the tray.

_‘Her name is Demelza. Demelza this is my son, the one I’ve been telling you about, Lieutenant Hugh Armitage.’_

She clumsily curtsied to him. She appeared to be coming back to her old ways and cursed herself for it on the inside. She could see him smiling behind the book he was holding in front of his face.

_‘Would that be all ma’am?’_

_‘Yes, Demelza.’_

He caught up with her in the corridor.

_‘I need to ask you a favor.’ He took a book out of one of his pockets. ‘This is yours. I didn’t think that we had the Sonnets in our library…’_

_‘What favor?’_

_‘I think you have a couple of hours free in the afternoon, after lunch? I want to join you and your son in your reading adventures. So shall we say… at two tomorrow? I’ll meet you in the same place as today.’_

_‘Sir… I haven’t said yes. I don’t think it would be…’_

_‘First page.  I’ll see you tomorrow.’_

He was gone before Demelza could protest further. She kept the book in her hands not knowing what to do, she didn’t want to have any troubles with Mrs. Kerr or her Ladyship. On the way to the kitchen, she stood still. First page? She opened the book she was holding, on the first page and in neat handwrite she read “For my dear wife Demelza Poldark. Ross.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this. Thanks for reading and the kudos and comments, they're much appreciated.


	5. JUNE 1799

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're going back to the future again to see how Ross's doing in London...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by the lovely Ladymadchan

JUNE 1799

ROSS

_‘Working late again eh, Poldark?’_

Ross slowed his pace and turned around to look over his shoulder. From the darkness of Westminster's halls emerged a small figure.

_‘Prime Minister! I thought everyone would be gone by now.’_

_‘There are still some willing to stay up late in benefit of their people. Or their own.’_

Ross smiled wryly. He was not yet sure of what Pitt made out of him or what anyone made out of him whatsoever. When the Prime Minister caught up with him, he extended his hand and shook Ross'. He had not stopped walking.

_‘I very much enjoyed your speech Poldark. Though I’m afraid it will come to deaf ears. We are not there yet.’_

_‘Then when will we be? They may be deaf but they're not blind. Each and every one of us knows what's happening not a hundred miles away from London and they do nothing!’_

_‘They do nothing because it is not good for their business to do something…’_

_‘And so they let their own countrymen die of starvation. I wonder how they sleep at night. How can they look at them, exploited and ravenous and yet pretend to be talking on their behalf.’_

_‘They talk for their own good. You should know that by now. But at least they do go back to their parishes from time to time… I hear you haven't done so since you arrived. I imagine London provides a much-diverted life than Truro. How long have you been here? Two years?’_

_‘Almost three.’_

_‘And you have not been back home in all this time?’_

_‘I have. Once.’_

The men had reached a corridor intersection, the left one led to the House of Commons wing of the building where Ross had his office.

_‘I understand you're a landowner.’_

_‘Mine owner. I inherited my family's mines, not so many lands. My father was the youngest son.’_

_‘And you let the fate of your mine and your workers to be handled by other hands?’_

_‘My men report to me periodically.’_

The Prime Minister nodded and pouted. Ross felt as he was being sized up for something and he was falling short of the mark.

_‘Do you have a family Poldark? A son to inherit you?’_

_‘I do. One son.’_

_‘And a wife?’_

_‘That too.’_

_‘Yet she is not here in London with you. And you have only been back in Cornwall once...’_

Sir William Pitt seemed to be talking to himself. In his face, a mix of sleepiness, sadness and melancholy took over his expression. He sighed and Ross made a sound with his boots to remind him that he was still there.

_‘Forgive me, Poldark. None of that is my business. I was just curious, you know the tales going around about the representative of Truro strolling in the hallways late at night, and I just happened to come upon you.’_

_‘Strolling in the night as well…’_

_‘Ha! Send me a copy of that speech of yours. I would like to read it again. Like I said, it is not yet time but I'll see what can we do.’_

 

* * *

 

_‘You were late again last night, Captain Poldark’._ That was usually his housekeeper’s morning greeting when he came down for breakfast.

_‘My apologies Mrs. Parkins. I didn't wake you, did I?’_

_‘No, but you did make me cook dinner for you in vain.’_ She said with a scolding voice.

_‘How about if you save yourself the trouble from now on? I can always eat something in the House.’_

_‘Oh how no, Sir! At least this way I can check if you had tasted some from the plate. Left to your own devices and I'm not sure you will eat at all!’_

_‘As you say Mrs. Parkins. I just don't wish to give you much trouble.’_

_‘It is no trouble at all, Captain. I just worry about you. Working all day, not a moment to rest.’_

Ross smiled kindly at her.

_‘I know it is not of my concern.  Sir, but you should find a wife to take care of you. I know there are several young ladies who favor you.’_

_‘That is the last thing I need.’_

Mrs. Parkins let Ross finished his meal in silence. What was happening with everybody lately? Have they plotted to make him feel miserable? Ross went back to his room after breakfast to finish dressing and to collect the documents and papers he would need for the day. It had been almost six years since Demelza had left him. His wife. The one everyone had been asking about. Even without knowing her, she’d managed to generate an intrigue around her. Sometimes, when he lay on the bed late at night, he imagined her waking beside him, her hand holding his arm. He thought of her in a ball, talking and smiling to him. He could hear her laugh and he laughing with her. He seldom did so anymore. Other times he pictured her around the room, plaiting her hair before bed, sometimes he even talked to her about the day's events. There were days when he even had hopes to find her downstairs when he came down for breakfast, chatting with Mrs. Parkins. She would like his wife. He wondered what Demelza would think about his new profession. She always liked when he stood for the people of Cornwall. “I'm that proud.” She used to say. Would she be proud of him now? And yet, other times he thought most emphatically, no. She hates you. She had said she lost her pride in you. And Demelza was not there. She had left him. That had been her choice, she chose another life. She took your son away. And sometimes he loathed her as well. Six years since his life had come down into a spiral of misery and loneliness. In the end, Elizabeth had left him too. They had both found out that that life, that dream of a life that had kept him alive during the war in America, was worthless. And so his wife had abandoned him and his mistress also. There was nothing else for him in Cornwall and when the first opportunity to run away appeared before him, he took it.

Ross looked at himself in the mirror.  He had aged in the last years. There were lines on the edge of his eyes and a few white hairs always shone in his mane reflected by the sun. He hadn't gained weight, though not because he exercised but because he ate so little. He felt older also, older than his years. Maybe he should have taken the chance to come to London when his late uncle Charles offered him.  So many things would have been different. But he couldn't lie to his own reflection. If you had gone then, you would not have met Demelza and God knows what her father could have put her through. Above all, he hoped they were alright. It was the worry that ate him inside, not knowing if she was safe. Three years was so much time without a word about them. But his reflection also said that she was smart and brave. And Armitage had promised to take care of them… but they had vanished after his death. Not a day had they waited to leave and they left not a hint of their whereabouts behind.

 

* * *

 

That week Ross tried to leave the House not so late. He had even accepted an invitation to dinner with another MP's in a tavern two blocks from Westminster. The talk was amicable and the weather was pleasant so before returning to his office he decided to take a walk along Whitehall and maybe go to visit the Horse Guards, which was his favorite place in town. He hadn't gone far when he saw her. Not her exactly, more a glimpse of a long neck and a handful of red hair that he could recognize anywhere. She was far from him but he could see her walking fast between the crowd that passed between them. She turned north when she reached the Strand and Ross had to run among the people to not lose sight of her. Ross’s apartment was barely six streets down, but she didn’t take that direction, Demelza turned left immediately and he followed her for a few more blocks, in Long Acre she turned left again. He had crossed the street and was walking at a considerable distance to avoid being seen but when she turned he hurried his pace again and was in time to watch her enter into a building with a few women that were apparently waiting for her. Ross hesitated about what to do. Looking around, he realized she had led him into an industrialized area of the city, the front of the buildings were robust and dusted but the street was busy with workers coming in and out and carriages with goods ran along the street.

Ross ended up waiting in the corner of the street for more than four hours. At the beginning he was so surprised he meant to go running and into the building right away. He had barely seen her, just her back. In any moment she had turn for him to see her face. But by the way she walked, the square of her shoulders, her slim waist and her head held high, he was completely sure it was her. Her clothes were simple and modest but seemed refined, at least for what he could tell. The first feeling was relief. She appeared to be well after all.  But what to do now?  He was certain she didn't live there.  This was a working area. And if he did go in and she ran away she could disappear again so he decided to wait and follow her when she came out. No one paid attention to the dark man standing against a wall staring at a door across the street, people came and went too worried with their own business. But Ross could barely contain his anxiety. What would he do after? What would he say? What would she say? After a while he came to the conclusion that she must work there.  It was most certainly a factory of some sort. Curious, he couldn't help to get near the place. The windows had their curtains closed so he couldn't look inside but on the wall next to door there was a plaque. It simply read “CARNE & Co.”

Ross came back to his surveillance position. A little after five a group of women came out of the building, they said their goodbyes on the sidewalk and each went on their way. Demelza was not among them. Another twenty minutes went by.  Ross was so still, he could be easily mistaken for a statue. The street was coming to life again with the workers coming out of the factories. When she finally came out she did so with another woman. They seemed too engaged in an amusing chatter and so they didn't notice Ross following them.

They walked back the same road Demelza had taken earlier, arm in arm talking and laughing all the way. When they reached the end of Whitehall they turned left and they kept going to Westminster Bridge.

Ross couldn't believe it. So close. All this time, she had been so close. And again came the wonder about what he would do. So nervous was he that his legs didn't seem to move fast enough.  He almost lost them on the crowded bridge and he panicked for a second, but then he saw her again, her copper hair shining against the London grey. They had stopped at the end of the bridge and a moment later the other woman turned left and left but Demelza kept walking south by New Road. Another few blocks and she turned on a quiet street and he lost sight of her when she went through a narrow alley.

The street had no end and when he reached the corner Demelza was nowhere to be seen.  She had surely entered into one of the little houses that had its doors to that alley. The street was empty, away from the noise of the busy road, except for three boys who were playing on the pathway. Ross stood watching the doors, wondering which would be Demelza's house when suddenly one of them opened and from inside came the unmistakable voice of Prudie saying _‘Master Jeremy! Yur milk tis ready, yur mother say tis time to go inside.’_

Ross saw one of the boys grab a jacket that was on the floor and waved goodbye to the other two.  Without thinking he approached the child, his hair was long and curled much like his own but lighter.

_‘Jeremy!’_

The boy didn't seem to recognize him at first and looked at him suspiciously but then Ross took off his hat, his dark hair falling over his cheekbones.  He opened his arms and called him again _‘Jeremy.’_

_‘Papa?... Papa!’_

Jeremy ran to his father arms dropping his jacket and Ross his tricorn at the same time. _‘My boy! I missed you.’_ He whispered while he hugged his son. Ross didn't know how long they stood like this but at some point he heard a _‘Judas!’_ and a _‘Mistress Demelza!’_ coming loudly from Prudie who had come outside to see why Jeremy was taking so long. God, he didn’t think he could ever hug someone so tightly. When Ross finally released him, he tousled the child’s hair and kissed him on the forehead.

_‘You’ve grown up so much Jeremy.  How are you?’_

_‘I'm well papa.  Where have you been?’_

_‘Who is that, Jeremy?’_ The other two boys had witnessed the scene and one of them spoke before Ross could answer.

_‘He’s my father, he's a Member of Parliament.’_ Jeremy said, to Ross’ surprise.

_‘Ross?’_

Now it was Demelza the one who appeared at the door. She had loosened her hair, it almost reached her waist. She was wearing a yellow dress and had an apron already tied around her body. Ross wasn't able to distinguish if he was actually seeing her or this was another fit of his imagination. Time had not passed for her at all. She looked just as he remembered her. Definitely, he should have thought what was he going to say. Five pairs of eyes were now scrutinizing him waiting for him to say something but, seeing Jeremy, he hadn't been able to stop and think, not even for a second. That morning he had nothing and now what he had lost and wanted most was standing in front of him, waiting. He picked up his hat while standing up.

_‘Demelza’_ , he said and bowed. He looked up at her, her eyes were unreadable.

_‘How did you find us?’_

_‘I saw you earlier and followed you.’_ Ross began fingering the hat on his hands.  Demelza did something alike with her apron.

_‘Jeremy, come inside. Go and have your milk, Prudie take him.’_

The boy reluctantly obeyed, casting his eyes down but before going in he smiled at him and waved.  Ross managed to smile back and saluted him. Demelza closed the door behind him and came down the steps to the pathway and stood a few feet away from him folding her arms around her.

_‘What are you doing here, Ross?’ ‘How are you, Demelza?’_ They both spoke at the same time and then went quiet.

_‘I'm fine. We're all fine.’_

_‘I went to look for you, after Hugh died, I went but you’d already gone. Where have you been?’_ He spoke rapidly and came closer to her but Demelza gave a step back when he did.

_‘We’d lived farther north to the city since. We moved here a couple of months ago.’_

_‘I'm living here too. I've taken the seat for Truro in the House…’_

_‘Yes Ross, I know. I've read it in the newspaper.’_

_‘Did you know?... Why didn't you come to see me?’_

_‘See you? Why would I?’_

_‘To… Jeremy. You're working in a factory, I saw you today. It's my duty to provide for you…’_

_‘Ross, I made it very clear that you didn't have any duty to us anymore. I don't just work there, I own the place. Jeremy is perfectly well, he misses nothing.’_

_‘He misses his father!’_

_‘How is Elizabeth, Ross?’_ She said abruptly.

_‘Elizabeth? She’s fine, I believe. She married George.’_

Apparently, not every piece of news made it into the newspaper because Ross could see she wasn't expecting that.

_‘She left, years ago. Did you think I was still with her?’_

Demelza said nothing for a while, but she didn’t falter either. Her demeanor didn't change nor soften. _‘What are you doing here?’_ \- She asked softly again.

And what did she think he was doing? When he had spent years thinking of her, craving for her, missing and loving her. Did she think he would see her and let her pass like they were both strangers?

_‘I just wanted to make sure you were alright.’_ Was what came out of him.

_‘We are Ross.  You don't have to worry about us.’_

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, for leaving kudos and comments, they're much appreciated...  
> We went back to the time of the beginning of this story in this chapter, I hope you liked it! I apologize again for the historical mistakes it may be on this, bear with me, I'm not from England! Also, I located Ross' lodgings when he was in London and a fictional location of Demelza's house and shop in a map to get an idea of the area, I leave it here as well, as a side note ;)


	6. July 1793 - March 1794

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth and her first months in Nampara...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. I know what it is now, is Elizabeth. I found so hard writing for her but I want to tell her story too...  
> Beta'd by the lovely Ladymadchan.

JULY 1793 –  MARCH 1794

ELIZABETH

Elizabeth's discomfort continued for a couple more days. She didn't want to give much importance to it. In her mind she attributed it to the stress of the last few days, the change in her surroundings and especially the change in her diet. She was sure Mrs. Paynter’s cooking was doing nothing good for her health.

Besides, she hadn't been able to rest properly either. If there was something she didn't like about Nampara's master bedroom it was the bright light coming through the windows every morning, as soon as the first glow of sunlight reached the bed she woke up. Dawn was not a time of the day she particularly enjoyed. She would have to speak to Ross, tell him they should buy heavy curtains for the canopy and windows, the ones hanging just wouldn’t do. With this thought Elizabeth had woken up, she didn't feel any unease or any pain that day. She moved further down the bed to hide herself from the light when she felt moisture underneath her. Quickly, she sat and undid the covers. To her horror, there was a wide red stain of blood in the sheets and in her nightgown. She muffled a scream and covered her mouth with her hands. Urgently, she searched for something on the bed but didn't know what she was looking for. All she accomplished was to cover her hands with her own blood. In desperation, not knowing what to do, she ran to the door to call for Ross but stood on the spot when she realized the consequences of what just occurred. Did this pregnancy lead her to be here?  Ross hadn't shown her any kind of attention since she had come to Nampara.  She had barely seen him at all. Would he cast her out when he found out she wasn't pregnant after all? Will he think she’d tricked him? Standing in the middle of the room Elizabeth realized that she was still bleeding. She never knew for certain if she was ever with child or there had just been an irregularity in her menses.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth kept thinking of that July day for months. Not knowing what to do, and aware that if the tainted sheets where to end in the pile of laundry that was supposed to be washed by Mrs. Paynter she would sell her out to Ross. She knew she would had to be the one to get rid of them. Still uncertain, she cut the bloody sheet in little pieces and one by one watched it burn in the fire of the master bedroom’s fireplace. Later that morning, she gathered the remaining sheet and bed covers and, along with Geoffrey Charles, put together a basket with all the dirty clothes, curtains and bed dressing they could find and that had been neglected since she came to the house, or more likely, Elizabeth thought, since Demelza had gone. They carried it all to Trenwith.

Geoffrey Charles’ easy chatter kept her mind distracted from what had happened. They arrived at Trenwith to a confused Mrs. Tabb who had obviously been asking herself where her mistress had gone. Elizabeth’s demeanor revealed nothing of the anguish inside her. She told her she was staying at Nampara helping her cousin, whose wife had just abandoned him. If Mrs. Tabb believed her or not Elizabeth cared little and that surprised her. Child or not, she realized that maybe for the first time in her life she did not care what people would say or think of her.  After ordering her servant to wash the clothes she brought, Mrs. Tabb’s husband updated her with the news of the house. Harvest was still poor, tenants still complained and the debts were still unpaid. Too much to add to her problems, Elizabeth ordered Mr. Tabb to get down the curtains of her tea room and then proceeded to read the correspondence. She only replied to George Warleggan.

George had written two letters, the first one asking when he might call on her, it has been so long since they had met. The other one more recently, saying he had, in fact, been to Trenwith and hadn’t found her there. He was troubled because nobody in her house knew where she was or when she would be back. He had heard rumors in the village upon which he credited no credibility, saying she was staying with Ross Poldark, who had cast his wife away and was now living like an old lecherous sinner with his cousin’s widow. Again, to Elizabeth’s amazement, what the villagers might think or not did not concern to her at all. But she cared what George thought of her. She wrote him back telling him that the rumors were all but fallacies. It was Demelza who had decided to leave Ross and take their son away and she, as a cousin who cared deeply for her family, had gone to Nampara to help Ross. He was, after all, the head of the Poldark family.

Elizabeth had returned to Nampara late that day to find Ross sitting on a bench in the parlor in front of the hearth. His shoulders were low, a glass of ale in his hands and his dark curls hiding his face from the world. Tired, Geoffrey Charles made quick way to his bedroom and Elizabeth was left alone in the darkness with her first love. Ross startled when she touched his shoulder. His eyes were reddened when he looked at her. It seemed to Elizabeth that he carried the whole world sorrow within him.

_‘Has copper not been found yet?’_ She asked while sitting in the only armchair of the house. Ross returned his eyes to the fire and slightly moved his head.

_‘No.’_ He cleared his throat and said again, _‘No. We’ve been following the irestone for months but it has run out…’_

_‘Oh. Isn't that a good thing?’_

_‘Its good if you find copper at the end of it.’_ Ross said and took another sip of his glass.

_‘Well, I hope you'll find it sooner rather than later. Lord knows an income is much needed.’_ Elizabeth made her point by looking around. _‘I went to Trenwith today, brought some curtains for the Master bedroom, the ones that were in my tea room. Remember them? You complimented the fabric once…’_

_‘Anyway,’_ she carried on when Ross said nothing - _‘there are so many things more that are needed. Chairs and tablecloths and candlesticks. Mrs. Paynter said there were none…’_

_‘That's because we had to sell everything.’_ Ross almost growled. He stood up and went to pour himself another glass.

_‘There're things in a house that can't be sold, Demelza should have known better…’_

_‘Demelza would have done anything just to keep me out of debtors prison.’_

_‘Of course. Forgive me Ross, I didn't mean to speak ill of her. I know how much she cared for you.’_

An awkward silence followed. Ross turned his back to her and kept drinking. She would have accepted a glass if he had offered one, but he didn't. Not knowing what else to say she stated: _‘I should go up to rest.’_

_‘Are you well, Elizabeth?’_ Ross asked her before she reached for the stairs. _‘I know this whole situation must be difficult for you. I mean to do what’s right.’_ His features had softened a little and his voice was less passioned.

 Elizabeth, encouraged by hearing him for the first time say what she longed to hear spoken from her heart. _‘I think this is right Ross. This is as it should always have been. You and I, together. I know I’m to blame too… I shouldn’t have married Francis, not after you returned from the war. I should have come to you. And you to me… But we have a new opportunity now, to set things right. And… and you ought not to feel guilty for her. You gave her more than she could have ever been able to dream of…’_

_‘Please. Don’t… Don’t talk about Demelza. Ever.’_

 

* * *

 

Months had come and gone since that night and not another word was spoken between them about Demelza. Elizabeth kept going to Trenwith to check upon the state, Ross had little interest in it.  The finding of tin had not improved the conditions inside Nampara, less the conditions of her older home. Luckily George was able to assist her in that matter. Also, he had arranged Geoffrey Charles’ education. As his godfather, George had said, it was his duty and obligation towards Francis.

Elizabeth saw more of George those days  in Trenwith or when she went to town. Nampara proved to be too enclosed for her, and lonely. Ross worked even harder than before in Wheal Grace. She had told him that now that the mine was providing he should take more time for leisure and enjoy the earnings of his hard labor. But in those months Elizabeth had discovered that Ross was not a man easily persuaded. Nor easily distracted. In the duller days Elizabeth had even come to miss Francis easy going manners. To avoid Mrs. Paynter judgeful looks, she had begun to make calls on George for tea and advice.

It was Prudie who forced her hand about the non existant child. After that night, they agreed to try to forget the past and think about the future and so Elizabeth thought it was not the right time for her to talk to Ross about it. But she had overheard them a few weeks later, when she was having dinner with him late at night and they thought she was sleeping.

_‘And where’s the child? She ‘ve no belly. She should ‘e showing by now!’_

So Elizabeth had to tell Ross.

She waited for him one night. Her mind was going through all the different scenarios. Would he cast her out? Would he be relieved? Would he be sad? Angry? She wasn't sure what she felt herself. The prospect of a family with Ross had come to her unexpected and as a result of a night of passion not searched by her but surely long desired. Yet she knew it was the idea of a child born outside of marriage what forced her to found the courage to take what should have been hers. Will Ross see it that way too? Was the child the only reason he had allowed her to stay with him? He had not made any further attempts to get close to her, even after their conversation... But Ross had remained stoic and quiet while she wept her truth. She didn’t know how it came to happen. A miscarriage or a mistake, she wasn’t sure. Nothing of what she feared occurred. Ross had been impassive and emotionless. And his face did not give away his feelings. _‘Do you feel well?’_ \- was all he asked, but not for her to leave.

He must have told his servant because she listened to them argued the next morning. Mrs. Paynter had been insufferable since then. Not a chore done, not an order taken and a look of disdain every time she crossed her path.

 

* * *

 

Ross had been away from home longer than usual. He used to be late, past her dinner time and Elizabeth had gotten used to not seeing him in the house for long. But she knew most of the nights Ross slept in the spare bedroom, now empty after Geoffrey Charles had gone to boarding school. Sometimes Ross had stayed in Truro when he had business to attend. She had learned from George that he stayed in Pascoe's, but those were rare occasions. Now Ross had missed his home for four nights and Elizabeth had no idea of his whereabouts. She had gone to visit George and on her way back had stopped at Ross' banker to enquire but nothing was known about him in there.

George had been responsible for the keeping of her good name between the villagers. He’d spread the word that she was still helping her cousin after the departure of his wife who, due to her lower upbringing, had ruined an ancient family name with her infamy. George made donations in her behalf and he was one of the few who welcomed her into his household with open arms, even after she had rejected his proposal of marriage nearly a year ago.

Elizabeth had begun to doubt if she had made the right decision. Ross, far and taciturn, did nothing to repeat the love they shared so many months ago. They lived together, yes, but he remained distant and the moments they did share topics of conversation were hard to find.  He  had shown no interest when she told him about the Treneglos' newborn or the rumors about the Prince’s new mistress. She, in turn, had felt appalled when talking about the war in France brought memories to him of his time in America and he tried to recall them by telling her. Talking to George, however, was easy and pleasant, and he had proved to be generous and with no reproach kept helping her and managing her estate. In the nights, she no longer waited for Ross to come to her again and she knew some decisions must be taken soon.

 On the fifth night away from home, Elizabeth heard the heavy boots on the stairs but the steps didn't follow its usual way to the spare bedroom. Instead, Ross was pictured under the frame of her room's door. His hair was tangled and his stubble closer to a dark beard. Ross looked more like a burglar trespassing than the Master of his own house. His entire body and clothes were disheveled, and in his eyes was an anger and a sorrow that reminded to Elizabeth of the Ross she found outside her bedroom that ninth of May’s night last year. There was no fight, nor shouting this time. Elizabeth opened the covers of the bed and allowed Ross to take her again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. That happened.  
> Thank you for reading! I will not take so long with the next chapter because I'm anxious to write it ;)


	7. JULY 1794

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ross finds where his wife and child had been since they left...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, beta'd by the lovely Ladymadchan.

July 1794  


ROSS

 

_“This is what you’ve always wanted.”_ Demelza’s words swiveled in Ross' mind while laying in bed. She had not sounded scorned or angry, at least not when she said that. She appeared to have let go the reproachable and angered tone in which she spoke to him the last couple of months when she was at Nampara. It had not been a question but a statement. She had no doubt of it, even when doubts and confusion were all he had. Was it not so? Was this not what he wanted? For years he had yearned to have Elizabeth; to share his life with her. All that time in America, whilst he endured the miseries of war he clung to the memories of her. He had gone with a promise, though not a formal one but a stronger one. The knowledge that he loved someone and was loved in return had kept him alive, knowing that he couldn't die because he had a future; a future to live with her. And for so many years he had clearly retained feelings for his first love. Elizabeth, a woman whose elegance, social standing and deportment made her the polar opposite of his untamed wife. But she had taken away what she’d bestowed by marrying his cousin and his certainty became something else. A dream perhaps? _“What you always wanted…”_ He was left broken and torn apart. Such a sentimental notion for a man who seemed to be so strong and proud. And he had been blind and numb until he realized his wounds were mending. Quiet and nimble Demelza soothed his hurt. And like a fairy transformed his existence into something worthy of living. But she hadn't reached his darkest corners. The scars though deep, were still there. And he might deny it to her, maybe he didn't even want to acknowledge it to himself, but his dream of the life that might have been was still there.

Exacerbated by the death of Francis and his own difficulties, he had found an escape in Elizabeth. To take care of her, to spent moments together, wasn't that what he wanted? Ross considered himself an honorable man. The guilt he felt after he took Elizabeth that long ago night of May he attributed to the failing of his own character. He had broken his word. He had made a promise to his young wife when they married and by all means he meant to keep it. But he had betrayed her then. That lack of self-aware, lack of control and not knowing what to say to his suffering wife led him to a path he didn't think was possible since he came back from the war.

Elizabeth was sleeping next to him. He had found that she fell asleep quickly after they have sex. Ross wouldn't stay the night in her bed. He would rise in a moment and go back to sleep in Jeremy's bedroom. The spare bedroom, as she called it. She had never asked him or said that she wanted for him to stay with her and he was relieved of it. The first few months of her staying at Nampara he barely remembered them. After Demelza had gone, the only way he could describe it was to compare it to when he was injured in the war. Like a bullet that didn't kill him but left grave illness and an incapacity to do nothing but to lay sick. Sick with worry, mainly. He didn't know where they were, his wife and child. And because of it, he was breaking his word again, for he had also promised to protect and provide for her, and he trembled every time he thought what she may be doing to take care of their son. As always, he found some comfort in physical labor. They had struck the bloody tin at last and that had helped to cheer his workers up and to make them stop looking at him like he was a pariah after Demelza had left and the rumors about Elizabeth had run wild. He had regretted seeing Dwight go most of all.  He had received an offer to work in Devon and he’d accepted it without even inquiring about his wages. He hadn't given him the month’s notice nor had he come to say goodbye. He’d tried to speak to him after the day he went to Nampara and found Elizabeth there but he had avoided him and refused to speak to him.

They were the loneliest months Ross had ever lived, even with Elizabeth there. She seemed to him a complete stranger, a shadow of a love that was never meant to be and he didn't know how to approach her. When she told him that she wasn't pregnant he was not shocked. The idea of a child born from both of them had never made roots in him, its existence or none existence had never occupied his mind. Yet Elizabeth seemed mortified by it, and without any words of consolation to give her, he had kept silent. And Elizabeth had remained there.

 

It was nearly two months ago that the arrangements in Nampara had changed. He had forgotten some papers which he had been working on the previous night. The sun remained yet unseen in the west coast of Cornwall and like every morning he started his day before dawn while the house was sleeping. Or so he thought. Upon returning to fetch his papers he saw Prudie leaving the house in haste. That was suspicious enough as he had never seen her up so early. She had not seen him and Ross decided to follow her. She made quick way to the crossroad but instead of taking the road to Sawle she took the path to Illugan. Ross heart spurted in his chest and he kept following his servant from the distance, forcing Darkie to go slow and not taking the horse track in case Prudie would turn around and see them. She never did. Her pace was steady and by nine they made it to Illugan. Ross had tied his horse under a grove near the village and was now following her on foot. He thought she would go to the Carne's. Instead, Prudie made her way through some humble but tidy little streets where houses raised on both sides and, Ross imagined, where the tributes with the best vein of a mine should live. Finally, Prudie had reached her destination. It was a small cottage, maybe poorer than the rest on that street but definitely better than Tom Carne's cottage, where Demelza had grown up. Prudie knocked on the door while Ross kept hidden and for a brief second he hoped it was Demelza who would open, but another young woman did it instead welcoming Prudie inside.

Confused, Ross tried to remember if his servant had ever said she had a family. He had been a young boy when his father hired them but as far as he knew the only family she had was Judd, if he could be called family at all. Whilst waiting, he tried to make inquiries about the residents of the cottage but Illugan people didn't like strangers and how well he knew that. Minutes later, he saw the mailman knock the same door as Prudie and deliver a letter. For a few coins, the man was not as tight tonged as the rest of villagers he’d spoken with. _‘Who lives there?’ ‘Luke Carne and his wife and child, Sir.’ ‘From whom was the letter you delivered?’ ‘His sister, Sir. She lives in Exeter and she writes every month.’_

A few coins more and Ross got the information he needed. Luke Carne’s sister worked as a maid in the Armitage Manor in Exeter. Before he even knew it he was already on Darkie full speed towards Devon. It was a long ride but Ross only stopped when his horse refused to continue in that fast gallop. He spent the night in an Inn, unable to sleep but Darkie seemed benefited from the night of rest. They arrived at Exeter late in the afternoon and thankfully everyone seemed to know where the Armitage House was for Ross had lost their way a couple of times in those foreign lands. It was already dark when he found the place. Up in the slope of a small hill emerged a grand mansion, larger than any Ross remembered seeing.

Ross pondered about what to do. It was late and he pictured himself in his raw clothes after two days of riding, knocking on the front door, violently open it and stumping into the elegant parlor that that house surely had, yelling for Demelza. He imagined Demelza coming to the scandal that he had no doubt he would cause, and seeing the reproach and shame on her face and he realized that was not the way. He left Darkie to her own devices again and decided to wait. The house soon would be asleep and the servants would retire to their rooms.

He found a good spot from where he could see through a window, to the kitchen and the servant's dining room and the frantic activity was the one expected for such a house. But as the time went by and the servants retired for the night the room became quiet.

It was then when he saw Demelza.

She came into the room with a candle, a book, and a box and clothing and she sat at the table and began sewing. Her hair was neatly tied in a braid and then into a bun against her nape, although some of her rebel strands fell loose above her forehead. Ross had approached the window, hidden by the dark he watched her work focused and fast with the needle. Later, what Ross remembered most about that night it was her gown. It had shocked him for indefinite reasons to see her wearing a dress that he had not bought for her. She had come to Nampara only with her brother’s clothes, nothing else, and since then it was him who clothed her, bought her her first cloak, her first yellow gown **.** He the one who had given her the cloth that she transformed into her wedding gown and then he had been the one who provided for her to buy dresses and clothes. Sometimes he went with her to the dressmaker and pretended to be bored while she chose fabrics, others she shyly asked him what did he think of her choice. It touched him in a level that he couldn't find rational.

He didn't knock. He burst into the house, a few steps down a corridor and he was in front of her. She stood with the noise and stumbled back when she saw him.

_‘Ross.’_

_‘Demelza… what on earth are you doing here?’_

She seemed truly shocked to see him. The dress that so much had disturbed him was of a dark deep blue, the skirt wider than what she used to wear. Apart from the frowns distorting her face as realization came upon her she seemed fine and in good health and Ross felt such a big weight being lifted off his shoulders. She was safe. And the fears that had tormented him in the months since she left were appeased. But Ross had never been an uncomplicated man. The relief of finding her was mixed with his guilt for hurting her and a feeling of anger towards her that had been steadily growing in him for leaving him and therefore his next words sounded sharp and full of reproach.

_‘What were you thinking when you left like that?!’_

_‘Sshhh… Ross. You can't be here.’_

He forgot his plan from earlier, and didn't care about the scandal. _‘You’re the one who shouldn’t be here!’_

_‘Ross!.’_ She grabbed him by one of his wrists and Ross saw himself carried into another corridor, doors on each side, until she opened one and pushed him inside.

He immediately recognized that this was her room, or the anteroom, with a little table and three chairs, a spinet in the corner, a bookshelf and a couple of sofas in front of a blazing hearth. Each surface covered by an embroidered tablecloth, and vases with flowers here and there, a homelike feeling hanging heavy in the air which he took as a personal hurt to his pride for she could made a place her own without him. And so the words which came out of him were rash and tempered.

_‘You shouldn't have left! What are you doing here, Demelza?’_

_‘Keep your voice down. You're going to wake the entire house!’_

_‘I don't care about these people! Do they know who you are?’_

_‘Sshhh… Ross!’_ – she whispered – _‘You're going to wake up Jeremy, he's sleeping.’_ – she said pointing at a closed door. And Ross became quieter.

_‘How did you find out where I was? Did Prudie tell you?’_

_‘Prudie? Oh, she will get what she deserves when we come back. I followed her, to your brother’s house. They were expecting your letter apparently. The messenger needn't too much inducement to bestow information…’_

_‘You shouldn't be here Ross.’_

_‘I beg your pardon? It is you who should be at home…’_

_‘And how is Elizabeth?’_ She moved suddenly around the room. Touching though not quite leaning into the back of the couch, into the table. _‘Did she have your child?’_ – she said when he didn't answer. – _‘Is it a boy or a girl?’_

Ross swallowed hard. _‘She… there is no child. She lost it or… was not pregnant, she doesn't know.’_ Demelza didn't say anything for a while; her eyes were unreadable.

_‘You shouldn't have gone like that, without speaking to me first…’_ \- he rustled.

_‘You had a long time to speak yet you said nothing. And what a wife should do? When another woman comes to one’s home searching for her husband and claiming to be expecting the husband’s child? I know there’s a proper rule in society for those situations and a wise married woman shouldn’t trouble herself about her husband’s infidelity. Well, not I. I did what I thought was best for everyone's concern…’_ – she said to Ross, quick and without breathing.

_‘But there's no child.’_ He pleaded.

_‘You mean she tricked you?’_

_‘No.’_ She looked at him, flickering colors dancing in her eyes.

_‘I'm sorry that she lost her child. But the fact that there isn’t consequence doesn't erase what happened in the first place.’_

And Ross didn't have an answer for that. After seconds of hesitation and while she was protesting again that he should go, he started to search for something in one of the inner pockets of his coat. Demelza went quiet when she saw the envelope that contained the letter she wrote to him when she left. Ross opened it and turned it to one side over his hand. The ring fell on his fingers and he gave a few steps towards her, stretching his hand.

_‘Here, this is yours.’_ But Demelza made no movement so he left the ring over the table. ‘ _This is yours.’ –_ he repeated.

Demelza looked at the ring and then to him again but said no word.

_‘Do you work here?’_ He asked.

_‘Yes.’_

_‘Do they treat you well?’_

_‘Yes. Everyone is very kind to us…’_

_‘You must see that I can't just go, Demelza. I'm your husband.  It's my responsibility to take care of you… We struck tin, at the mine. Things are not as harsh as they have been in the past, not as poor…’_

_‘Tis was never the poverty what concerned me…’_ – she said at length. _‘Twas being the second best, the one with who you had to settle with, and since Francis past away… you and Elizabeth… how is she? Did you see her after she lost the babe? She must be so sad…’_

_‘I've seen her. She's at Nampara.’_

_‘What do you mean? She's living with ye’?’_

Ross saw all the colors disappear from Demelza’s face. Her eyes, which had been scrutinizing him,  were suddenly clouded by tears. There was a noise outside, steps on the hall and the door was opened without knocking, like an outsider exploding their bubble. Demelza was in tears and Ross watched her trying to clear them with both hands. From behind the door came a voice.

_‘Demelza, why are you taking so long?’_ \- The voice came from a man’s head that floated for an instant between the door and the wall peering inside and seeing Demelza and then him came into the room.  He stood tall at the entrance watching him, and then in one step was beside Demelza.

_‘Demelza? Are you alright?... Who are you?’_ – he growled looking at him, but not distracted from seeing Demelza, pulling the hairs out of her face, cleaning the tears from her cheeks.

Ross was swallowed by a feeling he had never experienced before. He looked at the man, he was younger than him and much taller. His boots and breeches gave away that he was a gentleman, surely not a servant. He only wore a white shirt, opened until the middle of his chest. No neckcloth, no waistcoat. And Demelza was touching his arm while he kept wiping her face.

‘ _I'm fine, Hugh, I'm fine. This… this is my… he's Ross Poldark. My husband.’_ She muted in a mumbling tone.

The man eyed him warily and Ross, coming out slowly from his astonishment, felt the heat of the ire-raising from his chest to his head and traveling through the length of his arms until his hands that had already turned into fists.

_‘I will have to ask you to leave, Captain Poldark.’_ – The man said and before Ross could give a step towards him, Demelza pressed her hand on his forearm and turned him to her. _‘Hugh, leave us, please. I'm fine, I'll be fine.’_ – she assured him.

The man, Hugh, as she kept calling him was still reluctant to go. _‘I will not leave. She's my wife and I have every right to be here and take her.’_

_‘Please, Hugh.’_

Finally “Hugh" seemed defeated. _‘Fine. I'll be just outside. If you are not out of this room in ten minutes I'll come back to escort you out.’_ – He added, pointing at Ross.

As soon as the door was closed they both spoke at the same time:

_‘Who the hell is that man, Demelza?...’_

_‘Has Elizabeth been living at Nampara this whole time?’_

_‘Why does he enters your room without knocking? Why does he touch you and you call him by his name?!’_

_‘Has she?’_ – she asked again when he went quiet. And Ross didn't care to tell her the truth.  He was even regretting the fact that there was not much more to tell her.

_‘Yes. She's right where you left her.’_

_‘I did not leave her at my home!’_ – She cried and the word “home” echoed around the room. _‘I thought you were going to go to live with her at Trenwith.’_

_‘I have a house.’_ – He said, because if everything was broken he wanted to shatter it all to pieces.

_‘Has she been sleeping in my bed?’_

_‘It’s not your bed anymore, you abandoned it. It’s mine to do as I please.’_

_‘I see… Ross I wish you would go. Go and live your life as you wish. This is what you’ve always wanted… I don't even understand why you are here if she’s there…’_

_‘You're my wife.’_ – He said between his teeth. Demelza almost chuckled. _‘Who is he?’_

_‘He's Hugh Armitage, he's my master. You should go…’_

_‘He seemed to be more than your master. Are you his mistress?’_

A tear had escaped her eyelashes again.

_‘I’ve always known it…’_ – she recalled idly – _‘She captured your heart and never lost it. No matter what I did… Leave, Ross. Don't ever come back. I don't wish to see you again.’_

That struck him the most. _‘And you will stay here? To be a servant? To be his mistress?!’_

_‘I’d rather be his mistress than your wife!’_ – she yelled at him, fire coming through her eyes.

_‘And Jeremy?’_

_‘What about him?’_

_‘I can take him, he's my son!’_

_‘You're detestable… you would not dare! You didn’t even want him in the first place.  You preferred them… You would not take him to be raised by… by her…’_

Ross found that he couldn't, the desperation on her face it was a good reflection of what he felt too.

_‘Go and have a child with her! I'm sure another one will come sooner or later. Go Ross, there’s nothing for you here.’_

Those words echoed in his mind as he stumbled out of the room. Those same words that Elizabeth had told him after she married Francis… the cold night hit him hard when he finally made his way out. He hadn't noticed Hugh Armitage had followed him.

_‘Captain Poldark. A word.’_

Ross meant to go but then stopped and turned around to face him when he spoke again.

_‘For what I understand you didn't know Demelza’s whereabouts until now, I trust that now that you know and have come to see her and found her well...  you won't come here again.’_

_‘Are you going to prevent me? I'm her husband, I could come back with the guards tomorrow and take what is mine.'_

Armitage raised his eyebrows, not scared by his threat but as if he was confirming something he expected. Then he said:

_‘Legally maybe. But you must know Demelza enough to realize she doesn't belong to anyone. Certainly not to you. She told me about this other lady in your life, the woman you love. Perhaps I may be able to help, if you meant to legally break the bonds to Demelza and have the freedom to make a life elsewhere. I have several contacts in Parliament who could present your case favorably to get the dissolution of your marriage. And you should not worry about the expenses, Demelza told me about your financial conditions, it will all be on me…’_

In his anger, Ross almost chuckled.

_‘Armitage, is that your name? You needn’t worry about my finances.  If I wanted to present my case in the House I can do it myself. Neither of you should be concerned with me coming back, I won’t. She left without saying a word and I just wanted to make sure she is alright.’_

_‘She is. Rest your mind about that, I will take care of them.’_

_‘Jeremy too?’_

_‘Of course.  He’s a clever little boy and he’s very dear to me.’_

 

* * *

 

When Ross came back to his house he bedded Elizabeth. The road back was hard and exhausting. Darkie had refused to keep going in several occasions and unable to keep still while she rested he thought about abandoning her along the way and hire another horse to make his way back. But he couldn't do it and that broadened his loathing for what Demelza had done.  How could she leave him like this? And how could she be that man's lover? It dawned on Ross than what he had believed to be the better hand that destiny had handed him was naught but a mere coincidence. He had found Demelza on the street, brought her to his house, gave her shelter, fed her and dressed her.  In return, she had given herself to him.  But what if he hadn't had rescued her in the first place? In so much of his life he had seen people who weren’t honest, who put a facade and tried to be something they were not. He always knew Demelza to be different and now she had made her choice. She had another Master now, and he touched her and she called him by his birth name… Distance did nothing but to fuel Ross’ anger and in that moment gone was his moral character and came the contempt for the petty rules of society. He thought about Elizabeth, he was still drawn to her charm, dazzling beauty even when he had tried to avoid her and not think of her since the ninth of May of last year. Deep inside him still inhabited the risk-taker, the Ross with an unpredictable disregard for social norms and who would send the devil to all and take what  was offered to him. What he always wanted…  

The next morning he had confronted Prudie. The woman still had nothing but reproaches to him, she had seen him came out of the master bedroom barely decent on his way towards his bedroom. By midday she was gone, and Garrick with him.

A couple of weeks later Ross had received a letter from Hugh Armitage. He informed him that his servant had been welcomed into his house and had been given a job. He also told him that Jeremy was very excited to have his dog back and he also was welcomed. The letter was very flourished and amicable, which brought Ross' jealousy even deeper. Hugh Armitage had offered to write to him and tell him about Jeremy and assured him, once again, that he would take care of both Demelza and her son and that he could rest easy that nothing will ever lack for them but, as Demelza had requested, he shouldn't come back to Exeter.

Ross got up from the bed and in the dark made his way to his room. He had accepted.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and also for the kudos and comments. Is always encouraging to read what you think of this story and that you're following it. It means a lot to me and makes me wish I have more time to write but we're slowly getting there. As a preview, I'll tell you we're going to stay with Ross and Demelza again in the next chapter ;)


	8. June 1799

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demelza is reunited with her husband...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Always thanks to the lovely Ladymadchan for checking on this.

June 1799

DEMELZA

PART I

 

Demelza was busy with the afternoon meal in her little kitchen. She could let Prudie do it but she was determined to prepare the meals for Jeremy herself when she was home. It was strange enough for the boy that his mother spent so much time out of the house, working. They had moved to the core of the city, or near of it, a couple of months ago. Since then their lives had become much easier. This house was so much closer to the shop and she could walk there now, and be home with her son for dinner. His night lessons had changed to morning and she didn't have to take him with her so often, therefore, he could stay home playing with Garrick and Prudie until she came back. The four of them were so very pleased in their new place and Demelza was so very proud of it. It was the result of her work during the last few years. It was small but cozy. A parlour with a fireplace at the front, a little kitchen at the back and a tiny dining room adjacent to the living room, with a big window looking to her already bloomed garden. The backyard was narrow but long and there was enough space for her garden and for Jeremy and Garrick to play outside, though the child preferred to play in the street with his friends. Right in front of the main door, there was a stair that led to the second floor. Four rooms. Hers was a little too big for her alone and the others could use some more space. But after two and a half years of living in rented rooms she could not complain.

She and Marianne had stayed a little longer that day in the shop, doing the numbers for the last month and reviewing the pending orders for the next. They had walked together on their way home as they always did, talking and laughing. She really liked Marianne. She didn’t know what to expect when she suddenly had to pack her few possessions, throw them in a carriage and leave in haste alongside Jeremy, Prudie, and Garrick all the way to London. But that was the plan that Hugh and she had agreed upon. She had made the impossibly long journey to the capital mourning and arrived at the unknown, to a world so vastly different from everything familiar to her. She would have never been able to survive if it wasn’t for Marianne. She was Hugh’s cousin, kind and generous as he was and she had become her best friend almost instantly. They ran the shop together and since Marianne lived on the same side of the Thames  more often than not they walked together after the shop closed. She always lifted her spirits. That easy feeling, Demelza remembered it later that night when she was in bed. One moment she had everything under control, the next…

She had heard Prudie call for Jeremy but the boy hadn't come, so she asked her to go and call him again while she finished with the buns. Then she heard the “Judas!” and Prudie calling for her. She dropped everything she was carrying on the table and ran to the door afraid of what might have happened. And there he was. Come out of a past she had forced herself to leave behind, her husband. Ross.

She froze by the door. He was hugging Jeremy and then he stood up. He was Ross, though he looked fairly changed. In a lonely glance she could see the gray hairs in his head, the wrinkles around his eyes, his thin shape. She had to search for the scar to be sure it was really him and it was there, almost faded but there it was. 

_‘Demelza’_ , she heard him say and saw him bow. He looked up at her, his eyes were unreadable.

 

_‘How did you find us?’_ The words had come out of her lips but she couldn’t believe it was her talking to _him_.

 

_‘I saw you earlier and followed you.’_  Ross began twisting the hat on his hands. 

 

_‘Jeremy, come inside. Go and have your milk, Prudie take him.’ -_ She said.

The boy reluctantly obeyed, casting down his eyes but she noticed the little smile in her son’s lips when she turned to look at him after she saw Ross wave at him. She closed the door after he went inside and came down the steps to stand on the pathway. A chill ran through her body and she folded her arms around her torso.

_‘What are you doing here, Ross?’ -‘How are you, Demelza?’_ They both spoke at the same time and then went quiet.

_‘I'm fine. We're all fine...’_ She started to mumble driven by the warmth in those eyes that she had not seen in years, but before she could say anything else his stern voice interrupted her and he came closer to her.

_‘I went to look for you after Hugh died. I went but you’d already gone. Where have you been?’_  -Demelza gave a step back and Ross appeared to check himself when she did because he kept his distance once again.

_‘We’d lived farther north to the city since. We moved here a couple of months ago.’_ – She continued, still unable to believe that she was talking to him at the front of her door. She knew it was too close when she bought the house, too close to _the House_.  But she honestly believed that the crowded life of London would keep them in their different paths. Not that she didn’t speed up her step when she walked nearby the Parliament nor she didn’t look around more carefully to the faces passing near her searching for a familiar scar, no, she didn’t do that. In those moments she always reminded herself that if she saw him, he would probably be with her.

_‘I'm living here too. I've taken the seat for Truro in the House…’_

_‘Yes Ross, I know. I've read it in the newspaper.’_ – She had read it, years ago.

_‘Did you know?... Why didn't you come to find me?’_

_‘Find you? Why would I?’_

_‘For… Jeremy. You're working in a factory, I saw you today. It's my duty to provide for you…’_ – Right, she thought. And she cursed on the inside for feeling like this again, for the hurt she had so much tried to move on from, in a mere instant pierced her entire being when he said the word “duty”.

_‘Ross, I made it very clear that you didn't have any duty to us anymore. I don't just work there, I own the place. Jeremy is perfectly well, he misses nothing.’_

_‘He misses his father!’_

_‘How is Elizabeth, Ross?’_ She cut him off because she wasn't going to let him talk to her like that again, not like the last time they have seen each other, she had moved on since then, had lived and change.

_‘Elizabeth?’_ He said sounding startled and surprised by the question. She thought it was a perfectly normal question to ask… ‘ _She’s fine, I believe. She married George.’_

_Oh… Why? What do you mean?... Did she leave you again? You were not happy together? You were supposed to be happy with her, that's why I left! Did you not bring her with you to London? Would she not want to be an MP's wife? Are you pining for her again?..._ Hundreds of questions clouded her mind but she couldn't find words for any of them.

_‘She left, years ago.’_ She heard Ross say. _‘Did you think I was still with her?’_

Yes! She wanted to scream. Yes, you were supposed to be with her! She was supposed to make you happy, that's what you wanted! And now he was here, an intruder in the life she had built without him, bringing back ghosts she believed exorcized long ago…  _‘What are you doing here?’_  - She asked softly again.

_‘I just wanted to make sure you were alright.’_

_‘We are, Ross.  You don't have to worry about us.’_ She whispered back, she felt the tears gathering at the back of her eyelashes and commanded them not to fall. Not in front of him.

A bark from Garrick alerted them of the audience looking through the glass window. Jeremy, his nose and hands glued the glass, the dog by his side and Prudie behind them holding up the curtain so they could see.

_‘May I come in?’_

_‘No!’_ – she said instinctively, defensive of her bubble, of the world she had come to get used to.

_‘We have to talk Demelza, you know we have to.’_ He said.

She knew they had to. It scared her to admit she wanted to.

_‘Not now. I think… I think it has been enough for a day.’_

_‘Then when?’_

_‘Tomorrow. You can come tomorrow and we'll talk.’_ She began to go up the steps, desperately needing some space to… to think, to breathe…

_‘Will you be here tomorrow?’_ She turned around to look at him, his tricorn still in his hands. He had an expression on his face that she had never seen before in him and didn't know how to describe it. _‘Of course. This is my home.’_

Ross slowly nodded and approached to her again, took her hand in his, bent forward and kissed it, all before she was able to stop him.

_‘Tomorrow then. Good night Demelza.’_ He was still holding her hand. He gave it a squeeze and then left.

 

* * *

 

It had been a pandemonium when she’d come back inside her house. Garrick was barking and Jeremy was trying to ask questions with his pitched voice above it, _‘Did you see papa?!’ ‘When is he coming back?’ ‘Where does he live?’ ‘Did you tell him we search for news of him in the newspaper?’ ‘Can I show him the notebook with the clippings we have from his speeches?’_ All the while Prudie followed her wherever she went murmuring in her ear: _‘Ee ‘re not goin’ to let ‘im come here? Not after all he ‘as done to ‘ee.’ ‘What did he say?’ ‘He an’ “Mistress” Elizabeth must be livin’ in a big house.’ ‘We don’t need ‘im here. We are fine on our own, right Miss?’_. After a while, she had enough. She sent Jeremy to clean the kitchen, cast Prudie outside to the backyard and put Garrick to bed. Or something like that. Just that very afternoon her life was in order. A quiet and simple life, working and earning the bread for her and her family. And now, now she tussled around in bed unable to fall asleep thinking about him. And it was not like she hadn’t thought of him during all that time. She had. At first, it was impossible not to think about him, when the pain she felt was ever present.  Anger, she was so very angry with him. She had had not much in life but all she had, all she was she had given it to him and so she had to find herself again, had to learn that there was a Demelza in her that was not defined by Ross Poldark. And she had lived and loved since they last parted and the anger began to dissipate till she no longer felt pain, though that didn’t mean she no longer thought about him. Of course she did. Ross was the love of her life.  She had loved him since the moment they met. The trick of destiny was that she was not the love of _his_ life. With time she came to hope that he could be happy at least.  Not that she wasn’t, but with all that had happened she couldn’t say she was completely happy. But she was content, yes, she was pleased with her life… So she had no business to keep tumbling around in bed thinking about the way his hand had held hers those few seconds before he left. Neither did her mind had any right to keep going back to the fact that he said Elizabeth was now married to George Warleggan. Probably she left Ross for a more suitable husband again, and he must be pining for her once more…

By the time she managed to convince herself that nothing necessarily had to change after the following day and finally fell asleep it was very late at dawn. She woke up and decided to talk to him. He was right, they had to talk. And she was no longer mad at him. A conversation,  a closure was needed to end that chapter of her life. The neighbor's rooster had not yet sung when she heard the rattle of a carriage around the corner. She had already dressed and was finishing with her hair as she came to her window and saw horses puffing the cold morning air down the street, apparently the alley was too narrow for them to come in.

When opening the door she saw Ross get off the carriage and walk towards her. He was very smartly dressed. A tight black jacket over a waistcoat, grey breeches, white socks, and black shiny shoes. A dark cloak. His hair was tied in a bun and was wearing a top-hat. She had the sudden impression that he had made an effort in dressing like that but discarded the idea when she remembered that he was a member of parliament now, not the mine owner she had come to know. As he came closer another thing caught her attention. He was using a cane. A thin dark stick that was lost against the fabric of his coat.

_‘I´m sorry,’_ – he said when he reached her entrance – _‘we didn’t establish an hour.’_

_‘Tis alright, I was already up. Would you like to come in?’_ Her eyes lingered in his foot as he came up the steps.  He was avoiding leaning the weight of his body into his bad ankle, the one which had been hurt in the war. When he came next to her he reached for her hand again but this time she had time to draw back a little and tried to cover her hesitation by showing him in. Demelza followed him through her little parlour and noticed him limping.

_‘Are you alright?’_ She said looking at the cane.

_‘What, this? Quite well. I just over-exercised yesterday that's all. And the weather doesn't help either… This is nice…’_ Ross pointed out drawing a circle in the air with his cane.

_‘Do you need to rest your leg up?’_

_‘No no, I assure you, I'm fine.’_

They stayed in awkward silence for a few seconds, she noticed him looking around, trying to take in the place.

_‘Have you already had breakfast?’_

_‘Uhm, no. My landlady hadn't got up yet when I left.’_

Demelza invited him to sit at the table and was grateful for the few moments alone she had when she went to the kitchen. It would also give him time to look around at leisure. She brought back a tray with a pot of tea, two cups and a few buns that were left from the day before and put it on the table. Odd. It was so odd to see him sitting there, at her table. The silence continued after she sat in front of him. The only sound was the chinking of the cup and the plate as she poured and gave him his tea. She was shaken a little.

_‘Thank you. So, is this your house?’_

Pleasantries first. It was better, she could do small talk. _‘Yes. Our house. We moved in here a few months ago.’_

_‘”We”, as in?’_

_‘As Jeremy, Prudie, Garrick and me.’_ Her voice came out defensive, aware of his insinuation. Ross nodded and took a sip of his tea, his eyebrows drawn together.

_‘Is still an inhabited area of the city, but they told us it would be populated sooner rather than later. And it is so much closer to the shop. Where… where do you live?’_

_‘You don't know?’_

_‘No. Why would I?’_

Ross seemed to find something very interesting in his cup because suddenly he couldn't stop staring at it. He took a deep breath when he spoke again _. ‘You knew I was here, at the House, in London. You could have come to see me any day, at any moment.’_

_‘I… I didn't wish to see you.’_ – she lied. – _‘Not after the last time. Not when you'd be with… with Elizabeth.’_

_‘But I was not with Elizabeth. Not in all the time since I came to London and not for a while before that. Of course you didn't know that... Jesus! If I have known you were here I would have it announced it in the papers… I went to look for you, after Hugh died, I went back to Exeter to bring you home but you had already gone.’_

_‘Home? You mean Nampara?’_ \- He nodded. She sighed.

_‘Nampara is not my home anymore. It has stopped being my home since the day I left, since she started living there.’_

_‘But she's not there, and she was not there then. Look, Demelza, all that… Elizabeth and I are over. We’ve been over for years. In fact, there was never a “We” when talking of her and me…’_

He was serious. And nervous, Demelza could tell. She could tell by the frown on his forehead and the tone of his voice. The hands gesticulating, that was new. From the speeches on the House, she supposed.

_‘And she married George?’_

_‘Yes. More than three years ago. I haven't seen her since.’_

_‘You mean, you mean she left you to marrying him?’_ She asked cautiously and avoided looking at him. But when he said nothing and she had to raised her eyes to him she knew he’d understood what she meant. Did she leave you again? Did she again marry someone else knowing that you love her? Are you heartbroken and half-living because of her like you were before? He looked right into her eyes when he answered. And damn him for looking so contrite and sincere. All this was supposed to be over.

_‘No. She didn't leave me. We just weren't made to be together. The life she and I shared, the time we shared, it wasn't a life at all. It was empty and shallow. It wasn't the life I wanted… it wasn't like the life I shared with you.’_

Demelza realized there were tears prickling in her eyes. She cursed herself this time, for being so weak. She had already cried enough for him and she had promised herself and Hugh to not let the past shadow into her life. So she blinked her tears away.

_‘I am sorry it didn't work. I thought that the love you had for each other would be enough to overcome any obstacle…’_

_‘I’m not sorry, not for that. I am sorry for what I did to you, tru…’_

_‘Ross, please, that's not necessary. ‘Tis all in the past…’_ – She said and stood, meaning to clean the table without caring any of them hadn't finished their cup of tea. He stood as well and in a step he’d got his hands on hers to stop what she was doing. She let the tray slip from her fingers and it shattered on the table with a loud plop and the tea spilling over the buns. Demelza withdrew her hands from him and went to stand at the other end of the table.

_‘Hear me out, Demelza.’_ – He raised his hands in front of him, his palms to her like he was trying to calm down a wild creature and in truth she did feel cornered into this moment, to face something she thought gone and didn’t expect. Not anymore. The words he was about to say she didn’t know if she wanted to hear them now, it would make no difference. The hurt was already done, the injury bled, the scar closed. The salt would do nothing, neither good nor bad. So she stood still while he spoke. – _‘I am so sorry that I hurt you, that I betrayed you. You were so undeserving of such treatment and I… I was a fool. Obdurate and blind. And I didn’t realize, I didn’t appreciate what I had, what we had, until I was left with nothing. Please, forgive me.’_

_‘I do.’_ – she said immediately. – _‘I did. Long ago. That’s all in the past… there’s no reason to dwell in it. We cannot live our lives mourning for something that wasn’t meant to be. I do mean it when I say I’m sorry your relationship with Elizabeth didn’t work. It must have been hard for you, going through all that again…’_

Before Ross could say anything else they were interrupted by heavy steps coming down the stairs. Prudie stopped on her tracks when she came to the dining room where they were standing both in an uncomfortable position, her arms ajar, she pouted and gave Ross her most killing look. _‘’Ee ‘ve no business bein’ ‘ere. After all ‘ee done to th’ maid… ‘Ee shouldn’t be ‘ere. T'int right, t'int fair, after ‘ee been wallowing with Mistress Elizabeth all this time…’_

_‘Prudie! Watch your manners! Pick up that tray and start with Jeremy’s breakfast, please.’_ They both watched Prudie do what she was told and did their best to pretend they were not hearing her low grumbles. _‘He ‘as no business ‘ere’… ‘Did he ‘ad manners when he bedded ‘is cousin?’…‘He never cared for any o’ us’._

_‘Uhm… sorry for that. Prudie still has things to say. We should, we should end up with this. Jeremy would be up soon.’_ She told him when Prudie left the room.

_‘But, there are things that I have to tell you still…’_

_‘You asked for my forgiveness and you have it and now we can both move on with our lives.’_

_‘Demelza, there’s so much more that we have to talk about, so much more that I want to share with you and I want to know too.’_

They were interrupted again, this time by Jeremy who came down, still in his nightshirt, apparently curious from all the noise from the fussing from Prudie.

_‘Papa, you came back!’_ The boy ran to Ross’ open arms again. _‘Are you having breakfast with us? How did you find out we were living here? Mama said you didn’t know, and that’s why you hadn’t come before. Do you want to see my room? I have a scrapbook with all the newspapers cuts you’re in. And my books and toys, come and see.’_

Jeremy was dragging Ross by his sleeve towards the stairs and Ross was silent, mainly because Jeremy didn’t let him speak. _‘Put your clothes on, Jeremy. And come down to breakfast.’_

_‘Can papa go upstairs so I can show him my room?’_ – they both look at her expectantly. Side by side, Demelza could see how much they looked like each other. Jeremy had grown so much in all these years and she could imagine the shock from Ross when he saw him. He had been no more than a babe when they left. – _‘Sure.’_ – she said, her voice a little broken.

While they were upstairs Demelza tried to steady her heart that had been trying to escape her chest that whole time. She set the table again for Jeremy and finished what Prudie was baking. One look was enough to make her hold her tongue, and she sighed and coughed but didn't say anything else. Ross came back a few minutes later. _‘Jeremy would be down soon, he's getting dressed. He, uhm… he asked if I could stay for breakfast?.’_

Demelza didn't quite believe her son would propose such formal invitation, but considering that she hadn't let him finish his tea after making the invitation she agreed.

_‘Its a very pleasing house.’_ He said when the awkward silence filled the room again.

_‘Thank you. You didn't tell me where you live?’_

_‘Oh. I’m renting some lodgings near the Thames. Nothing too fancy, they're close to Parliament so they serve their use.’_ He shrugged.

_‘Wonder you didn't have your own place after this long…’_

He looked at her. _‘What would be the reason if it is only me.’_ \- He said. Jeremy came down then bursting with laughter and questions and almost didn't let his father speak while they ate. In no more than half an hour he managed to tell a short but well detailed account of their lives in the last six years, as far as he could remember and as far as he knew, of course. Demelza took advantage of the distraction to observe Ross. How he smiled and looked at Jeremy, how he laughed at his little mischiefs and replied to his questions. She wondered what was his intention now that he knew where they were, if he would want to continue to see Jeremy. She could hardly deny him that, she wasn't sure she even wanted to deny it. She knew how much her son missed his father, how much he needed him. It was easier when Hugh was with them, if not his father, he could fill the hollow in the boy's life, even as a friend or an uncle as Jeremy called him. And he was a blessing when the child would ask for his father and her eyes would fill with tears and she was unable to speak.  In her head a voice would say “He doesn't want us. He has another family.”, but of course she’d never said such things to Jeremy and it was Hugh who stepped up and answered the boy's questions. _“Your papa misses you very much, but he can't be here right now. He's got other obligations. But don't worry, your mama and I will always be with you.”_ Silence had fallen around her and when she came back to the present she found herself stared at by the two Poldarks. _‘Sorry my lover, what did you say?’_

_‘Can papa stay for my lesson?’_ He asked, his eyes full of excitement.

_‘Oh, I'm sure your father is busy…’_

_‘I'm not.’_ Ross clarified quickly.

Jeremy’s pleading face prevented her from declining.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly midday when they’d finished. They had started with history. Jeremy told them proudly about a book Demelza had given him to read about the Revolution of 1688 and the House of Stuart but then they quickly change the subject to a French class. Jeremy was eager to show his father his progress in the foreign language. Not that she noticed how Ross raised his head to her and the sparkles in his eyes when she too began to speak French with Jeremy.

_‘Comment s'est passée ta journée, madame?’_ – the boy asked her speaking slowly so he could articulate properly every word.

_‘J'ai passé une journée très agréable, merci de demander à monsieur.’_ – She replied to Jeremy, and then to Ross: _‘Et vous monsieur?’_

He smiled shyly and smirked and said to her: _‘J'ai eu la meilleure journée depuis des années.’_ And she couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Wait papa, what did you say? You spoke too quickly and I didn’t understand!’

Then Ross slowed his speaking so Jeremy could understand, but as they went on, Demelza realized than her French was as good as his was, or he was a bit rusty. She didn’t feel the warmth of pleasure at all at this, _of course not_. They searched the words they didn’t know in Jeremy’s book and Ross sometimes corrected the pronunciation. He told them that he had been in France the year before but didn’t have the chance to practice his French skills much because he went to check the living conditions of the British troops.  Therefore found himself surrounded by English men. Jeremy’s eyes widened while he was telling his story and Demelza could see his son already in awe for his father. How hard it must have been for him all those years, she couldn’t help but feel it was her fault that he missed this. Not that Ross had offered this kind of attention towards his son ever before, she remembered. No, when Jeremy was a babe he preferred to be at Trenwith, playing father with someone else’s family. She remembered how scared she was when she found out she was pregnant again, scared that he wouldn’t want her child. And that night, Jeremy crying and she, alone trying to console him while he was having a liaison with another woman. And yet, there he was. Sitting side by side with his son, both reading from a book. Jeremy with his head resting on his hand and Ross pointing out something on the page.

_‘I think we’re finished for today Jeremy. I must get to work and surely your father must go someplace important.’_ – She said and gave a look to Ross when he didn’t move.

_‘Oh, yes. Look at the hour! I think I must go…’_

_‘Oh no, papa! Can you stay longer?’_

Demelza began to lift the things off the table while Jeremy kept trying to convince Ross to stay. Honestly! She would have to have a word with him, and with Ross. She would not expose her child to his carelessness again. _‘Jeremy, your father has things to do. And I don’t know about you being alone with Prudie.’_ – the last she murmured only for Ross to hear.

In the haste of trying to get Ross out of her house to leave for her job, she ended up agreeing for Ross to accompany her to the shop. They both kissed goodbye to Jeremy and Ross had the kindness to not make any promise to the child, she suspected, before he could speak to her again. Jeremy waved them from the door until Prudie called for him, and she found herself walking together with her husband whom she had not seen for five years, by the narrow alley and under the grey clouded sky of London noon.

She noticed his step was as quick as hers. _‘Is your leg better?’_

_‘Yes, quite better, thank you. It just needs rest when it bothers me, and after a few hours it’s as good as new.’_

She was about to turn the corner when Ross stopped walking by her side and called her. _‘Er, Demelza!’_ – She turned around to watch him pointing with his cane to the carriage. She must have had a confused look on her face because he told her that even when he felt better a long walk would be a bit much for his leg still.

_‘You should have told me the carriage was waiting for you,’_ – she said as they settle to the seating – _‘I would have sent something to eat for the driver.’_

As the carriage started to move she looked at Ross, he was watching her intently. There was a time when she could tell exactly what he was feeling. She had always had that sixth sense with him, since the day they met, but she couldn’t tell now. Over the years she had come to remember her marriage with him, how they met, the things they did and said that brought them together. The things that had brought them apart. She had asked herself many times if she regretted it, if she would had preferred another life than the one she had lived. Her answer was no. Of course not. Ross had given her Julia and Jeremy and she couldn’t fathom her life without them in it. But he, Ross, he had destroyed everything she was to him that night, those months. She could say she understood him better now, after so many years and after she had lived without him. But the woman she was when she was with him, his wife, the person that could read him just by looking at him, she had gone. She had lost her, and in her place there was another Demelza.

He kept looking at her, a wicked smile curling up on his lips. _‘Since when do you speak French?’_

_‘Hugh taught me.’_

_‘Oh.’_ – the smiled seemed to dissolve in his lips almost immediately.

_‘I have barely practiced since he’s gone. Except for Jeremy.’_

_‘So… Hugh? Did you… did he own the shop?’_

_‘No, I mean… the shop was owned by his uncle, his mother’s brother, it was all they had. His mother’s family was not wealthy. But they were always close and John was Hugh’s favorite uncle. He’d gotten sick and the shop was neglected for so much time.  So much that they owed more than they had. John could not work anymore. His wife had died and he only had one daughter, Marianne. That’s the woman you saw me with yesterday.’_ – Ross nodded –  _‘Anyway, Hugh’s uncle would have never asked his brother in law for money, but Marianne told Hugh. He was already sick by then, and he planned this without me knowing. I was so mad at him when he told me, I’d never asked for it. But he insisted, and he was already so weak I didn’t want to upset him. He bought the shop from his uncle and asked me if I could keep employing Marianne. When he died and I came here, she taught me everything. How to run the shop and about the city. She manages the shop with me…’_

By the time she finished they had already crossed the Thames.

_‘We’ll be there in no time. Armitage, he said to me he would take care of you, I’m glad to see he was a man of his word, as strange as that sounds.’_

_‘He was. When… when did he tell you that?’_

_‘When I went for you to his house, and then later.’_

_‘Later?’_

_‘He wrote to me.’_

_‘What? When?’_

_‘From time to time. He wrote telling me about Jeremy, how was he doing and what was he learning.  Sometimes he sent me a drawing of him. He never talked to me about you, though. All he said was that he would always take care of you.’_

Demelza raised her eyebrows. _‘I didn’t know… Why would he…’_

_‘In his last letter he told me that something was amiss with his eyes, that he couldn’t see properly and so he would write to me again when he was mended. I’d never imagined that he was so ill, that he would…’_

She couldn’t help it. Thick drops of tears spread from her eyes to her cheeks, she tried and failed to stifle a sob that aroused in her throat. His hands were suddenly cupping her face, his thumbs drying the moisture escaping her eyes, his lips landing quick kisses on her forehead.

_‘I went to bring you back when I knew he died. I went for you and you were not there.’_ – he whispered in between kisses, they were coming lower down her face –  _‘God. I’ve missed you, Demelza.’_

As quick as it had started she rapidly ended. She pushed his hand from her face and brushed away the tears with her own. Her chest was breathing heavily and as the carriage stopped at the door of her shop he reached for a lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes.

_‘Don’t do that.’_ – she said, her voice trembling. What had happened to her just then she didn’t know. If it was the mention of Hugh, of his death that had brought her to feel such distress, or if it was the outcome of a day that she never thought she would live. Not even a day, hours since Ross was back in her life. Without another word she was already coming down the carriage, closing the door behind her.

_‘Demelza!’_ – he called after her poking his head through the window carriage. _‘I’m sorry.’_ And because she didn’t know why exactly he was apologizing for, she said nothing. _‘May I see you again tomorrow? Jeremy and you?’_

The truth was that they hadn’t exactly talked much on the way to the factory. At least not about what she thought they ought to talk about, which was Jeremy. And he was the one asking, he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to see him…

 

* * *

 

PART II

July 1799

DEMELZA

Demelza was fuming back to her house one Thursday afternoon. Her swift and careless steps wetting her feet in puddles. How could he dare? She told him not to, they didn’t need it, they were perfectly fine. But no, he had to intervene. He had to meddle in her business…

It was no more than two weeks since Ross had reappeared in their lives. After that first morning he’d been in her house, Demelza had not been able to think in anything but Ross that whole day. Not that she wanted to think about him, but how could she not? Nor had she wanted to ponder about how warm his hands had felt on her cheeks when he held her, neither reflecting on his voice when he whispered ‘I’ve missed you’ against her temple. No, Demelza didn’t want to think about Ross, she was only trying to take the best course of action for Jeremy.

_…to be continued…_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this chapter. It was taking me too long (yes, even longer) to write the whole chapter so this is the first part, the second part shouldn't take that long (fingers crossed, it's nearly finished).   
> Also, I wanted to thank you all for the comments and kudos. I've had a rough end of the year but it's always encouraging to see the interest in this little fic. I haven't replied to all the comments of the last chapter but know that I've read them and I will not be so lazy this time, so tell me what did you think of this chapter.


	9. July 1799

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demelza, Ross, and Jeremy continue their lives after their reunion...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy this chapter, is the second part of Demelza and Ross encounter in London.  
> Thanks to the lovely Ladymadchan for checking on this.

July 1799

DEMELZA

PART II

Demelza was fuming going back to her house one Thursday afternoon. Her swift and careless steps wetted her feet in puddles. How could he dare? She told him not to, they didn’t need it, they were perfectly fine… But no! He _had_ to intervene. He had to meddle in her business…

It had been no more than two weeks since Ross reappeared in their lives. After the first morning he’d been in her house Demelza had not been able to think of anything else but Ross that whole day. Not that she wanted to think about him, but how could she not? Nor had she wanted to ponder about how warm his hands had felt on her cheeks when he held her, neither reflecting on his voice when he whispered ‘I’ve missed you’ against her temple. No, Demelza didn’t want to think about Ross.  She was only trying to take the best course of action for Jeremy. She had decided to ask him straight there and then when she saw him again what was his intention with their child.  She couldn’t let her son get hurt. He had been through enough. She also thought about Hugh, about what Ross had said, that he’d written to him while they were together. She wondered why he’d done something like that and why hadn’t he told her?... She missed him, his friendship, his companionship. The first months after he passed she had missed the safety she felt when she was with him, but she had learned to be without him as she had learned to be without Ross. But Hugh was never going to be back, and Ross would be knocking at her door the next morning.

 

* * *

 

He was early again. No cane this time but gracefully dressed once more. He wore his hair down and his hat was a tricorn. He looked more like the Ross she remembered. She was waiting for him with breakfast ready on the table.  He again bowed and kissed her hand when he arrived. He had done it almost three times now, in total, in all their lives. He had kissed her hand before but not like this, not as a formal greeting. She wouldn’t deny that she enjoyed the gesture.

_‘May I keep coming?’_ – He said before she could ask him herself.

_‘To see Jeremy?’_

_‘Yes. And you.’_

They'd agreed that he could keep coming in the mornings. To see Jeremy, she said. But Ross was always early and Demelza found herself spending at least an hour a day alone with him every morning. They talked mostly about their son, Demelza filling in the years he had missed. Ross would tell her about Parliament, how Lord Falmouth - Demelza barely remembered who he was - noting he was losing the favor of his countrymen decided to look for a younger candidate, had asked him to become an MP. Smirking, Ross told her he had won the election to George Warleggan just by one vote. That alone had been worth the chance. He didn't mention Elizabeth. But he'd said George managed to get to the House eventually. He had bought his seat. It was Jeremy who said that George was never mentioned in the newspaper as Ross was. Demelza looked at them both with their chests raised with pride, Jeremy for his renowned father, Ross for his clever and instinctive son. She raised an eyebrow to him when she caught his eye, she didn't want Jeremy to have any rivalry with anyone. Ross smiled at her. They didn't mention Elizabeth or Hugh again, and Demelza had rejected his offer to take her to the shop in his carriage again, not wanting to repeat what had happened the first time he accompanied her to work.

But even so he insisted in joining her every noon since they had to go the same way, until The Strand at least. She did not walk by his arm, he had offered it to her the first time they went out together but Demelza had denied it with only a slight movement of her head and Ross had not offered it again. Instead he walked with his hands on his back, or on his cane. He had taken it back on the third day. Demelza told him that it was not necessary for him to walk with her, that he could go in the carriage back to his rooms.  She could do the journey alone as she had for years, but he didn’t want to hear reasons. To tell the truth, those minutes walking beside him made her uneasy. She should tell him not to accompany her, that it was fine if he wanted to spend time with Jeremy but with her it was not needed it. And yet there was a certain charm in walking beside him. Ross had changed during those years.  She noticed it every day more. Not only outwardly as she had seen the first moment she saw him, it was something deeper. His character was more reserved and his manners more cordial. Surely because he had lived in this city during all those years and had been surrounded by such company. It was not just the little bow or the kiss on her hand every time they met or said goodbye, or how he accommodated her chair when they sat down to breakfast or how he opened the door when they left together every noon. It was the way he talked to Jeremy or how he shared with her anecdotes of his travels, not only had he gone to France but twice to Portugal, or the gossip he told her from the House of Commons. His dark moods, ever present when they were married, made no appearance on those few days. He intrigued her, sometimes she wondered if the man she married a lifetime ago was still there. But then, she had changed too

 

He had come one morning saying he needed to give her something and slid one envelope over the table. She opened it with apprehension and barely got to see some bank notes before the envelope was closed and on Ross’ side of the table again.

_‘That's not needed.’_ – She said.

Ross pushed the envelope again to her with one finger.

_‘Take it, Demelza. It's the least I can do.’_

_‘No. I told you, we're managing quite alright. Jeremy misses naught.’_

_‘But I'm his father and, and your husband. It's my responsibility to provide for you.’_

_‘No, it’s not. I freed you from that responsibility. Or, better said, you freed yourself from it. Don't feel obliged to worry about us. We've been perfectly well without you.’_

_‘I don't feel obliged to, Demelza.’_ – He told her exasperated _. – ‘I can see how well you've taken care of him, how you obviously don't need me. But still, I’m his father and I want to be part of his life… of your lives.’_

It came to her unaware. Oh, what she would have given to hear those words came out of his mouth six years ago… All those months since Francis had died until the end of their marriage, all that time feeling neglected and forlorn… She had put it behind her. But she was suddenly visited with those feelings again. They came upon her and took her utterly by surprise. She didn't want to feel like that again. But it was stronger than her. Everything regarding Ross Poldark seemed to overwhelm her.

_‘You didn't want to be part of his life when we were at Nampara, why would it be different now?’_

_‘What?’_ – He said, and had the nerve to look surprised.

_‘When he was little, when he needed you, when he cried or wanted to play, where were you?’_

He still looked puzzled.

_‘At Trenwith! Pretending to be the father of another’s child, the husband of another woman. And we, we had barely enough to fend for ourselves and yet you chose to stand with them. Perhaps you thought that I could stand up for myself, being a miner's daughter, that I didn't need my husband to make it through each day. And you were right, I can. So don't come to play heroics with us. We are not in need of a savior nor a master.’_

Early that day Jeremy interrupted them. Ross, his face white and his tortured eyes avoiding hers, was extremely quiet for the rest of the morning. Perhaps she had been too harsh, had let the bitterness that she thought expelled from her begin to take hold of her again. Beliefs she thought left behind turned out to be merely sleeping, waiting for a chance to bite and their prey had finally arrived. But she couldn't allow resentment and sorrow to fill her life again. She wouldn't allow it. She must try to ease her temper, a huge undertaking when she heard him speak of “responsibility” and “obligation”. She looked at him, Jeremy was reading his lesson and he was pretending to be listening but she could tell he was not. All she wanted was for him to be good with their son. The rest was of no consequence… She might have to tell him that.

The first blocks they walked together that day they did it in silence. He walked a few steps behind her, people, horses, and carriages passing them by as they crossed Westminster Bridge. She didn't want this, not this anger again. When she turned around her body collided with his. There was a brief second when her whole weight was hanging onto an unsteady foot and she thought she was going to fall but the next second Ross was holding her, his arms around her back and waist, her gasp and the sound of his cane hitting the floor drowned by the crowd around them. His hands moved to either side of her waist to stabilize her and soon left her. Her hands lingered for a bit more on his shoulders.

_‘Whoa, sorry.’_ – _‘Sorry.’_ They both said at the same time.

_‘I’m sorry,’_ – Demelza added in a quiet voice, not sure if he heard her above the street noise. – _‘about how I reacted earlier, I didn’t mean to be so harsh on you.’_

_‘You meant it? Did you really think that I would rather be with them than to be with you?’_

_‘I didn’t think, I lived it. But let’s not talk about it.  I don’t want to quarrel about the past, ‘tis all gone.’_

_‘Is it?’_ – He almost had to yell to be heard. Ross sighed and looked around, seemed to find their surroundings inappropriate for what he intended to say. _‘Come, let’s find someplace quieter. Maybe we can go to my lodgings? We can talk there.’_

_‘No Ross, I have to get to the factory and besides, there’s nothing to talk about. I wanted to apologize and I did, that’s all.’_

_‘No, that’s not all Demelza. That’s not all when you seem to believe that I… that I preferred them over my own family! Come, Demelza. Let’s move from here.’_

Yet unwilling to go to his apartment, Ross brought her to St. James Park. His hand tightening her arm as he was afraid she might run at any moment. In truth, she had considered it. She could easily free herself from his grasp, and make a run for it, through Whitehall and then to her shop. He would never catch hold of her, not with his bad ankle. But, what was she running from? What was it she was so afraid he might say?

Somehow he had managed to shift his arm around and now her hand rested in it, his other hand lightly covering hers. Perhaps unintentionally she copied the other couples walking in the park.  Surely none of them would have felt the same amount of strain there was between the two of them.

_‘Here.’_ – He guided her to a bench apart from the pathway and closer to the lake. She could hear the singing of the birds above her head in the trees’ canopies, the murmur of water a few feet further, the smell of the earth and green grass around her. Ross sat next to her but released her hand. He took off his tricorn and seemed to struggle to find the words he was looking for.

_‘Seriously Ross, there's no need…’_

_‘Can I ask you something? When you married me, did you do it because you had to?’_

_‘What?’-_ She said vacillating.

_‘What you said before, I was your master and I did save you, in a way, was that the reason you agreed to be my wife?’_

_‘Ross! How can you ask me that? You know very well why I married you. It was not out of gratitude, it was not because you were my master and I had to after that night. I can't believe you think of me like that, after all these years…’_

_‘I don't.’_

_‘Then why say such a thing?’_

_‘It’s the same thing you said to me when you implied that I'm here out of obligation, out of duty. Demelza you don't know, you can't begin to understand how my life has been the last few years. How glad I am that I found you. What this last week has meant to me… How terrified I am each morning to go to see you and find that you have run away from me again. I know my behavior after Francis died was appalling. For years I tried to justify myself, blaming other people, the stress we were in, all the sorrow around us, you name it. It was all excuses. It was all my fault. You see, for so much time I believed my life had been robbed from me. When I was young, I used to think life would be easy. I had a good ancient name, lands, mines, a household. A family who cared for me. A pretty girl that seemed to love me. My life was destined to be simple. Take possession of my inheritance, work the mines, marry my sweetheart, have a family. So simple for me that I became a renegade. Reckless and impudent. America was supposed to put me to rights but when I came back everything I thought certain, was gone.’_

_‘And you’ve always yearned for it.’_

_‘You see, I thought I had, maybe I did. But how can you yearn for something that you never truly had? All of that, it was never really mine, I never had it. Not then and not when you left. I didn't want her, Demelza. Listen, I know, I know. Perhaps I believed that I did, you certainly believed it. But I was mistaken. Those months, those first months after you parted and I didn't know where you were, they were a torment. Everything was upside-down and I was so confused and ashamed and so worried, so very worried for you my love. But then, when I knew you were with him, when I knew you wouldn't be with me anymore I tried, I tried to do as you said, to live the life that I thought I wanted, but it wasn't there. For me, it was not there. And it took me time, it took me far more time than it should to realize that my life, the life that I wanted, the life that I truly yearned for, was the one I had with you.’_

_‘Oh, Ross.’_ – she said in a choked voice – _‘Please stop. Do not say such things, you have always loved her…’_

_‘No, no. I didn't know her. When I began to see her, when I tried to share my life with her it was clear that we hadn't been meant for each other. I know its difficult to understand…’_

_‘I understand, Ross. I do. How it is to hanker for someone who was never yours, I do.’_

He looked at her then, his eyes running all over her face, from her mouth to his eyes, her cheeks. Did he comprehend what she meant? All the life she had shared with Ross she had always known about his love for Elizabeth, of his affection for her even when he had never had her. Ross and Elizabeth, a sacred institution created from nothing but dreams and hopes. She didn't understand it then, not when she was there, not when she was real. She didn’t understand why he would keep thinking of a shadow of a love when she gave herself to him entirely. But she did now. Now that she too had spent years hankering for someone who had never truly been hers. Because he had always been _hers_.  Real or not, he had proved it when he'd run to her that night six years ago. She understood it and had forgiven him and put it behind.

_‘Did you… did you think of me?’_

_‘Ross, don't…’_

_‘Because I did. Every single minute of every single day. And not only out of duty, not only because I believe it is my responsibility to care for you and Jeremy, but because I missed you, Demelza. My wife, my friend, the love of my life. I promise, Elizabeth means nothing to me anymore. I'm so sorry for what I did to us.’_

_‘You’ve already said you are, and I told you that I’d forgiven you. ‘Tis all in the past Ross.’_

_‘I lov…’_

_‘Ross, please! You can't. You can't come here after all these years and pretend that with an apology everything will be fixed.’ – ‘I know, I know.’ – ‘You broke my heart. Smashed it into a million pieces until nothing was left of it.’_

_‘I know I did. But Demelza, listen, I know I have no right, that you don’t need me. You don't want me, but I’ve lived far too long without you to not seize the chance to say this to you. I love you, I love you Demelza.’_

_‘You can't…’_ – _‘Yes, I can. I always did so but I was so stupid, so stupid and I couldn't see, I didn't realize that my life, my destined life was you.’_

_‘Oh Ross… you can't love me. Not now, not anymore.’_

_‘Of course, I can.’_

_‘No. I am not the same girl you married. I've changed, I've grown.’_

_‘Me too, and I still love you.’_ – _‘I've done things, Ross. I've done things, things that I don't regret but you won't like.’_

_‘You mean, with Hugh?’_ – she hesitated, a little put out. Then nodded.

_‘Ross… I just don't want for you to think that you ought to give us naught, that's all.’_

_‘What I said, it means nothing to you? Am I too late? Do you love him?’_

_‘I don't know if it is too late, mayhaps. And is not that I don't care what you said, it's just that it has been so long. We are strangers Ross. We’ve both lived our lives apart and we've changed. How can I love you? How can you love me if you don't know who I am? Is not that simple, it can't be.’_

Ross stared at her for long moments and then rubbed a hand across his forehead, a lock of white hair shining under the midday sun. He looked in such turmoil Demelza had to grasp her hands together to not bring him closer to her. She needed to be strong.  She had to be the reasonable person in this. How much had she longed to hear those words? Five years earlier and that was all she wanted. But she had made a promise to herself and she had worked hard to move forward, to make the best in her life without him for her to now just simply accept him back in their lives the same way they used to be. He said he no longer loved Elizabeth, that he had never done so. Could she believe him? Did she want it to? It was not a question to answer lightly. She would need time…

_‘It’s all lost then? I've found you just to lose you again…’_

_‘Ross, that's not it.’_

_‘May I keep seeing you?’_

_‘Of course, you can.’_ – _‘You won't run away?’_

_‘No Ross, I won't. My life is here. Our lives, if you want to keep seeing… Jeremy, I'm sure he’ll be glad. He's so happy that you are back in his life.’_

_‘Are you not happy?’_

_‘I am happy that Jeremy is content. If you want to spend time with him, that’d be nice, but the rest, the money I mean, there's no need for it.’_

_‘Alright, but I still want to help, to give you something. Not because I have to but because I want to.’_

_‘I know, but we're fine… for now.’_

 

* * *

 

_‘What have you done?!’_ – Was the first thing Demelza said to Ross when she opened the door for him one morning. – _‘Didn’t I tell you that I need not anything from you?’_

_‘What do you mean?’_

_‘We received a new order from the government. Six hundred shirts? Two hundred pairs of gloves? A hundred pair of stockings?! We’ve never done stockings! The Government envoy came to the store yesterday and ordered us to double our production for the next month. Apparently someone, a “Member of Parliament” suggested increasing the order to Carne & Co. But this mysterious MP forgot to check if the factory had sufficient capacity to face such requirements.  Or if the owner of the shop even wanted to increase production because that would mean the seamstresses would work more hours knowing that they would have to spend more time away from home and disregard their families!’_

_‘Oh. I’m sorry Demelza, I didn’t know. I thought that, that it would be profitable for you if you had a larger order…’_

_‘Judas, Ross.’_ – _‘Don’t worry, I can fix it. I’ll ask to cancel the order and…’_

_‘No! You just don’t do anything else. If they cancel the order we’re going to lose our income for the next month. And if we don’t comply with the order we risk losing the arrangement we have with the State to sell them our products. So, thank you and please do not intervene again in my business.’_

_‘Hello, Papa.’_ – Jeremy said. Ross had followed Demelza to the dining room where Prudie and his son were already eating breakfast, both looking kind of downhearted.

_‘Good morning, you’re up early.’_ – _‘Yes. We won’t have lesson today. I have to go with mum to the shop.’_

_‘You have to?’_ – Ross asked looking at Demelza, they both had sat down at the table with them, Ross’ tea was already awaiting for him.

_‘Actually, it is Prudie who will have to. She’s got to help in the factory and she can’t stay to look after you, Jeremy. We have a big order this month and we will both have to be there, so you’ll have to go too. You’ll have fun, you always did when you went before.’_ – She commented in the most encouraging tone she managed. Jeremy blew a displeased breath of air.

_‘Yes but not all day mum! What will I do all day?’_

_‘Maybe I can stay with Jeremy.’_ – Said Ross.

And that was it. Jeremy’s smile shined so brightly on his face she couldn’t do more than agree. Ross apologized again later, in a moment when they were alone, and promised not to meddle again with her affairs. He had talked with one of the departments in charge of supplies for the army and had suggested they could increase the purchase order to Carne & Co, omitting, of course, the small fact that the factory belonged to his wife. That did not look good under any lens.  It could even be considered fraudulent.  But he had done it out of goodwill and before the talk he had had with her the week before. So Demelza accepted his apologies and his word, he looked pretty well mortified and after the conversation they had in the park things had wound down a bit between them. Also, they had added a new routine to their days. The following morning Ross had asked her if she was in a hurry to get to the shop. It was not a particularly busy day, so she had let him walk her to the park again. It was strange to be at ease with him after what he had told her the previous day, but in truth she was. They had walked through the green fields of St. James Park arm in arm each day since then. Sometimes they stood near the canal watching the swans flutter their wings under the midday sky.  Another time they ventured as far as the Queen’s Palace. Ross always joked that they could go in to see Queen Charlotte’s private rooms if she wanted to. If she was being honest to herself a part, alright a big part of her annoyance with Ross for having increased the workload of the shop was that she would have to work during morning and she would miss those moments with him.

The one who was the most pleased with the new arrangement was Jeremy. He’d gotten to spend more time with his papa than ever in his entire life. Ross would get to their home early morning as always, but Demelza and Prudie would have to quickly leave for the factory, leaving Ross, Jeremy, and Garrick to their own matters. Lessons were abandoned for the time being, Ross didn’t have the patience or, Demelza suspected, he was highly susceptible to his son’s endless desire to play and explore the city. When Demelza would come back in the afternoon she would find them in the middle of a toy-soldier battle, playing cards or chess – Ross had bought a chessboard and was teaching Jeremy how to play – or both weary to the bone stretched in her parlor’s sofas after a day out in the city. Demelza listened to everything from Jeremy after Ross was gone and the child had recovered his strength, of their visits to Hyde Park, Tower Hill or his child’s amazement for St. Paul’s Cathedral. Ross had even taken him to his office in Parliament, though Jeremy was still waiting to assist in a session since the break of summer had already begun.

The days were harder for Demelza and Prudie, who after the long working hours at the shop, still had to come home and do the chores of the house. Prudie had a day off once week from helping in the workshop to do the cleaning and the washing in the house, but Demelza still had to make dinner and prepare food for Jeremy and Ross to eat while they were not there. Ross came up with the idea that he could hire a cook to help them in the kitchen but was silenced by just one look from Demelza. He then suggested that he could take Jeremy to supper in a tavern near his office, where he ate every now and then when he was at work. After reassurance that it was a respectable place – and an invitation to have lunch with them that Demelza politely declined – she had agreed to that too. It would ease her nights a little. Nearly a month had gone by since Ross had found them, as he often said, and sometimes Demelza could not believe how her life had changed. Her relationship with Ross was nothing at all as she remembered it to be when they were married. He was not as she remembered him, or maybe he was. He was… different and familiar at the same time. She felt at ease with him and she fully trusted him with Jeremy. Somehow she was able to tell how much he really cared for him, how much he loved him. She could tell from the first moment she had seen him holding her child when he showed up at her door. And Jeremy, he was over the moon with his papa. Only now was she capable of seeing how much he had missed him and it spurred a guilty feeling inside her, that she had robbed him from this, from his father. But then she recalled that the Ross she was married to would have never done anything like this. She was trying not to think much of that Ross these days.

As for Ross himself, he seemed to be quite comfortable with this new agenda. Nor even a month had gone by, but Demelza noticed a change in him, a physical change. He rarely used his cane anymore, except when he took Jeremy for some strenuous expedition, and he looked healthier, the bags under his eyes were fading away and his cheekbones had stuffed a little. Demelza assumed it was because he was eating regularly every day and wondered if he had not been eating properly before they met again. He also smiled more. Sometimes he laughed out loud at Jeremy's witticisms or would wear his wicked grin while talking to her. Her favorite was the welcome smile he gave her every time she opened the door when she was back from work and he would hurry to help her with her cloak or with the sample of fabrics she brought from the shop. But it was not like she longed to see his smile during the day, nor that she thought much about how the wrinkles became more prominent around his hazel eyes when he smiled at her. No, she definitely didn’t think about his wrinkles and smile at all.

On one of Pruddie’s days off Jeremy – Ross had said – decided to surprise his mother by visiting her at her work. It was the first time Ross went to the shop, and he looked fairly surprised by the size and the bustle in it. Demelza was cutting some fabrics at the back so it was Jeremy who came jumping around to see her first. Ross went to her a moment later guided by Marianne. – _‘Ross, this is my partner, Marianne.’_ Ross took her hand and bowed, _‘Captain Ross Poldark, a pleasure ma’am.’_ He said. Demelza shyly smiled to him in a thank you for being discrete, but that was really not necessary with Marianne. She had told her everything of course, she was her friend. Marianne had known of her story even before she'd met her, Hugh had told her, explained to her that she would have to help her when he wasn't around anymore. And then she had told her everything again, and about how Ross had appeared in her life again. Her friend was very intrigued by him and wanted to meet him. They talked for a little while, Marianne told Ross that she knew through Demelza he was a Member of Parliament and they made the small talk appropriate for the situation. Then she excused herself and went back to work throwing cheeky glances to Demelza over Ross’ shoulder. She seemed quite amused.

_‘She seems agreeable.’_ – He told Demelza when she left. Jeremy had already disappeared under the maze of fabrics, knowing where to go to find pen and paper.

_‘She is. What have you been up today?’_

_‘We went to the Horse Guards again, Jeremy really enjoys it. We managed to ride for half an hour but then he got bored and wanted to come to see you.’_

_‘He's not very good with horses.’_ He had never properly learned how to ride, no one had taught him. Ross frowned at her and looked around. _‘So, this is your shop.’ -_ He said changing the subject. The place was a frenzy. Most of the seamstresses were working double shifts, which meant the workplace was overcrowded. Demelza was at the last table where she could overlook the whole area. She offered Ross a tour and he gladly accepted. She showed him the garments they made, the storehouse where they kept the fabrics and finished products, her office – where they spoke a little more with Marianne. Jeremy showed him some of the drawings he’d made for his mother – and the workspaces. Ross had always been good talking with his workers but now he had also added a governmental aura and by the formal way she treated him and showed him around everyone thought he was on an official inspection of the factory.

_‘It’s amazing, Demelza. Do you only sell to the government?’_

_‘Yes, it's the agreement that Hugh's uncle had and we kept it. It’s so strange to make a living selling uniforms for the soldiers at the front, is like making a profit from the war.’_

_‘It could be argued that you are taking care of our soldiers across the channel. Providing clothes, protection from the weather, a reminder to home…’_ – She looked at him, the sincerity of his voice sounded soothing.        

_‘I wish it would end anyway. If it goes on like this when Jeremy reaches adulthood...’_ – She didn’t even want to think about it. Why was she thinking about it? And why was she telling Ross something that she had never said out loud. _\- ‘I… I wanted to open a shop to the public but we would need to pay additional rent, and invest in another kind of fabrics and change the clothing patterns. I don’t know, maybe someday…’_ – she said distracted.

Marianne decided that she was going to go home earlier that day. She said a storm was coming. But Demelza needed to finish cutting the fabrics for the shirts so they could begin to be stitched the day after. She told Ross he could go home with Jeremy, but they both insisted they would wait for her. About two hours later they were the only ones left, Demelza had sent Jeremy to help to turn round the gloves, his little hands were the right size for the task. Ross had joined him and Demelza could hear them chatting some tables ahead of her. When she finally told them she was ready and they could go, they had almost finished with all the gloves.  Maybe she could employ Ross as well.

They were halfway through St. Martins Lane when the first drops began to fall, it crossed her mind to go back to the shop and wait there for the rain to stop but they were already blocks away. By the time they reached The Strand the rain had turned into a downpour.

_‘Maybe we should go back.’_ – She said to Ross. He looked back in the direction they’ve just came in and then across the street, considering their options. Meanwhile, she took off her redingote and gave it to Jeremy. – _‘Here Jeremy, cover yourself with this.’_

Jeremy put the jacket over his head like a hood and held it under his chin leaving only his face to see, Ross smirked when he saw him and grabbed his free hand to cross the street. _‘Come.’_ – He said to Demelza, and grabbed her hand too. _‘We’ll go to my lodgings, it’s the closest place.’_ Instead of going their usual way through Whitehall, Ross led them to The Strand. They hurried under the rain shower, Jeremy a few steps ahead of them jumping and splashing in the puddles, covered by the long jacket. Demelza was getting more and more wet with every step she took, still she held Ross’ hand. He had not released hers since a couple of blocks back. Suddenly there was a thunder and the afternoon seemed to turn into a dark night in an instant and the water fell even more heavily, drowning every sound around them. Ross’ hand left her then and they stopped their motion for a second, for him to take off his coat. He put it over his head and stretched his arm to make a sort of tent to protect Demelza and then they resumed their clumsy way, Ross holding his coat over both of them, Demelza with no choice but to encircle his waist with her arm.

_‘We’re not far.’_ – He whispered near her ear and then to Jeremy – _‘Turn in the corner, Jeremy.’_ He kept splashing in the water and was now using her jacket as a cape.

The downpour became a distant murmur when Ross closed the door behind them. The three of them were dripping water from their clothes, Jeremy still laughing. _‘Come this way.’_ – Ross said leading them to the stairs. Then she heard him ask something to a woman that had been standing beyond an archway looking at them stupefied when they burst into the building.  

Once they were all on the second floor, Ross opened one of the doors for them. – _‘Over here.’_ –He said and guided them into his chambers. Demelza quickly glanced the rooms. They were in the sitting room,  a couple of armchairs, a desk and a small library, there were two large windows looking at George Street, in the far corner there was a door ajar through which she could glimpse a bed, but what really caught her eye was the big fireplace with the timid flames sparkling inside it. She was soaking wet and freezing.

_‘Come close to the hearth, Jeremy.’_ She said to her son and began to strip him from his clothes. Ross disappeared for one moment but came back the next with his hands full of sheets and blankets. While she helped Jeremy to dry out he pocked the flames until they came back to life, adding more firewood, the room reinvigorated with the blaze of the fire. Soon Jeremy was dry and wrapped in a blanket. Ross had quickly changed his shirt and taken off his boots and barefooted she saw him stir the closet and drawers that were in the other room. He brought stockings, pants, shirt, a suspender and a small waistcoat for Jeremy. The later was from a fine dark velvet, she thought it should look short on Ross, though that was the fashion, but it suited Jeremy quite well. While the boy was getting dressed, because he insisted he didn't need help, Demelza came back close to the fire. Her hands and arms and body were cold and white and she was shaking a little. She tried to unbutton her bodice but her dress was too wet and her hands too clumsy. Soon there were other hands working to undo the hooks. Ross stood in front of her frantically trying to release her from her garments, his eyes focused on the task, he didn't look up. A moment later she was free from the soaked bodice and without saying a word Ross bent and undid her skirt. Her chemise was soaked through as well but before she could cover her decency with her arms he wrapped her in a blanket. _‘Here. Have a shirt while I look for something else. Come with me a moment Jeremy.’_ He gave her one of his shirts and went to the other room with Jeremy, closing the door behind. In the warmth of the hearth, Demelza took off her chemise and petticoats and hasted put on Ross’ shirt on her. She left her bloomers on, but her stockings were wet still so she took them off too. Then she wrapped herself again in the blanket and began picking up the clothes that she and Jeremy had sprawled on the floor. She was accommodating the garments in a chair near the fire when Ross and Jeremy came back to the room. He gave her a pair of socks and offered some breeches but she declined the last. Then he gave her his coat, his old coat, the one he used to ride on the fields of Cornwall.

_‘Sorry, is the longest I have.’_ He said apologetically.

_‘´Tis alright. Thank you, thank you Ross.’_ – She remembered that overcoat. She had been with him when he bought it. It was one of the few times he had bought something for himself. Shirts, waistcoats, and other minor garments she used to buy for him or made. The blue color was worn out but it was warm and it reached her near the ankles. The rain kept pouring beyond the windows and Jeremy was peering outside, Ross joined him. A carriage had lost an axis at the corner and was blocking the passage of the entire street.– _‘I’m afraid you’ll have to spend the night here,’_ – Ross said – _‘they won’t be able to fix it under this weather, I don’t even think they’re trying.’_

_‘Oh. We can walk.’ – ‘No, mama. Let’s stay!’ – ‘Your clothes are wet, and it will be night soon. The carriage won’t be able to get here.’_

_‘But… Prudie will be worried, she doesn’t know where we are.’_

_‘I’ll send word to her as soon as the rain stop. There’s plenty of room here, you can sleep with Jeremy in the bed, I can sleep here.’_ – He pointed at the armchair. She couldn’t imagine he would be very comfortable there.

Genuinely she didn’t see another way but to stay. There was no prospect of the weather to change, if Ross could send for a carriage it wouldn’t be able to reach the door and she couldn’t take Jeremy walking all the way home in the rain and it was already getting darker. It wouldn’t be wise. She looked over Jeremy’s head to Ross and nodded.

The three of them continued watching the rainfall and the broken carriage through the window, Jeremy had sat on the sill, Demelza had placed her bum on the little edge that her son left, smiling at him as he narrated the wonderous adventure he just had. Ross was standing behind him, leaning on the wall, looking over them. There was a knock on the door and Ross went to see it. She saw that he was given a tray, with a pot and cups that he placed over the desk which was near him, then he went back to talk to the woman standing right outside the door. Demelza tried to hear what they were talking about but because Ross was with his back to her she only managed to hear the woman’s voice saying “this is respectable establishment”. She smiled to Jeremy and went to stand behind Ross. She touched his shoulder to alert him she was there and then she could see the little lady he was talking to, the same startled expression on her face that she’d seen earlier. It was not for less, given her appearance.

_‘Good afternoon, nice to meet you Mrs.?’_

_‘Parkins.’_ \- Ross said.

_‘Mrs. Parkins. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to get properly acquainted before, we were quite distressed, we'd got caught in the rain.’_ Demelza smiled and pointed to her clothes. Ross looked at her intently.  She knew he was trying not to laugh. – _‘And had to make haste to get Jeremy out of his wet clothes. We thank you for the tea, ma'am.’_

Mrs. Parkins was still not convinced and she kept looking at her warily. At last, she finally settled by saying: _‘I'm sorry lass but, who are you?’_

At this, it was Ross who quickly added: _‘Mrs. Parkins, may I introduce my wife, Demelza Poldark.’_

If Demelza had not been afraid that the woman may fall flat to the floor her reaction would have been comical. She looked from Ross’ face to hers and she had the same grimace on her face than Jeremy had when he tried to do hard sums.

_‘But… I thought… you said…’_ – she mumbled.

_‘Ah! I didn't say, Mrs. Parkins. We thank you for the…’_

_‘And where on heavens have you been, young Lady? Leaving your husband alone to fend for himself here? A taciturn man like he is!’_

_‘Oh, I…’ – ‘Thank you again for the tea, Mrs. Parkins.’_ Ross said, stepping before Demelza and starting to push the door close. – _‘May I trouble you with supper for three later?’_

_‘You and I must speak, Captain Poldark.’_ Demelza no longer could see the woman but she could certainly hear her. She saw Ross nodding seriously through the little opening of the door. _‘We will, Mrs. Parkins, we will. Tomorrow.’_

When he finally closed the door Ross looked at her and they both started laughing.

_‘What exactly have you told her?’_ – She said chuckling, the colour returning to her cheeks.

_‘I haven’t told her anything about my life in Cornwall and she’s been trying to find me a wife for months, so I imagine she must be quite surprised.’_ – Demelza figured it too. A wife appeared from nowhere. She wondered what kind of woman the little lady had tried to match him with. Had he met any of them? It was not her business, of course. She didn’t consider herself his wife, she hadn’t thought of herself like that in years. But she technically was his wife and she didn’t want his landlady to think ill of her. Or him. A thought invaded her mind suddenly.  Ross had been in London alone for three years, had he…? No, it was no concern of hers. She felt her cheeks became warmer and Ross was still standing really close to her smiling about what had just happened, or so she thought. Then Jeremy called for him and before she knew it his lips were on her cheek and then he was gone to his son.

Ross moved his books, papers, and ink and letters from the desk and they had their tea there. She didn’t feel any unease as she thought she might have felt to be in his rooms. The company was quite pleasant. Ross was relaxed, as he was when they wandered through the park and he showed them some letters he had exchanged with the Prime Minister.  Then Jeremy found some books on mining and Ross explained some and promised to tell him about his own mine some other time. Then he produced a deck of cards but the game was interrupted by dinner. Mrs. Parkins did not make another comment.

The rain had stopped outside by the time they finished eating. They tried to resume the game but Jeremy was soon dozing over his cards. Ross took him to bed, Demelza behind them, she opened the linens for him. – _‘He’s had a tiring day.’_ – She whispered while putting back the sheets over him. – ‘ _Are you sure you’ll be alright in the armchair? I don’t mind sleeping there so you can rest in your bed.’_

_‘Don’t be silly. I’m not that old, you know.’_

_‘The cane says otherwise.’_ – she replied. He giggled. – _‘I think I must get to bed too.’_

_‘Of course, I’ll leave you to it. Good night, Demelza.’_

_‘Good night, Ross.’_

It was hours later when she woke up, Jeremy still slept beside her, the room in darkness. There was a noise that had awakened her and when she peered over the blankets she saw Ross’ silhouette, carefully closing one drawer. Demelza watched him as he moved in tiptoes limping back to the living room.   She didn't even think of it, she threw the blankets open and followed him.

There was a small blaze coming from the fireplace and together with the silver moonlight coming through the windows they painted ghostly shadows on the walls and on him. He was sitting on the armchair removing one of his socks, a pained look on his face. She silently moved towards him and just when she was standing in front of him she realized she was only wearing his shirt. – _‘Are you alright?_ – she whispered. She saw him slowly travel her body with his eyes. From her feet and bare legs, her hips, waist and breast, until he finally fixed his eyes on hers. She could see his mouth was dry. Hers was dry too.

_‘Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.’_ – The sock was still on his hand, the ointment he’d retrieved from his room on a little table beside him.

_‘Your leg, is it bothering you?’_ He nodded. Demelza went to sit in the armchair too.

_‘I told you, you should have slept in your bed.’_ She reached for the salve and turned to Ross, her hands on her lap, the palms up. – _‘Let me see.’_

Ross hesitated for a moment but then raised his leg to her. Demelza took his foot and ankle on her hands and carefully looked at it. He grimaced.

_‘Tis a little swollen.’_ She murmured and began to massage the ankle with the ointment. They didn't speak while she was doing it.

_‘Thank you. You… erh, you didn't have to do that.’_ Ross said. They were speaking so quietly, maybe to not wake up Jeremy maybe because there was something around them, something that had not been around them in years and it could be gone with the simplest whisper.

Demelza, who still rested her hand on his foot, gently squeezed it and shrugged off his gratitude. Then Ross reached a hand and took one of the curls that fell tousled over her forehead between his fingers. - _'These are still untamed...’_

_‘Does your ankle hurt you when you're in Cornwall?’_

_‘I haven't gone back to Cornwall.’_

_‘In all this time?’_ – He moved his head. – _‘Why not?’_

_‘There's nothing for me there.’_

Demelza couldn't believe what he was saying. After all he had worked and fought for since he came back from the war.

_‘But… your land, your house, the mine, your friends, the workers…’_

_‘Nothing matters if you're not there.’_

She looked at him. She might not easily read his moods anymore but this look on his face she knew, the look of complete and absolute honesty. It melted her heart.

_‘Oh, Ross…’_

He brought her closer to him or she might have reached for him, she wasn't sure. But in a moment she was holding him, his arms around her shoulders, her head in the crook of his neck. He soothed her back and she felt him take deep breaths on the top of her head, smelling her hair. Then he pressed his lips on her forehead again. There was silence, only the wood crackled on the fire. They just stood embraced in each other arms. The longing around them had not left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this chapter.  
> Always thank you so much for the comments and kudos, they're much appreciated.


	10. November 1794 - July 1799

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Ross continues his relationship with this new Demelza... and Elizabeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter is here finally! Sorry for the delay and thank you so much for the interest in this fic...
> 
> With much love to Ladymadchan, for taking the time to fix my grammar mistakes.

November 1794

ROSS

_‘Where were you?’_ – The voice came from a darkened corner in the parlour. It was late, very late he would say. Ross had lost track of time in the inn.  He had drunk more than a few cups of ale. Then a few of rum. The voice was Elizabeth's.  She usually didn't wait for him awake. Neither up nor in bed.  He had stopped his nocturnal visits to her more than a couple of months ago.  Had changed her cold attentions for the sweet oblivion alcohol provided. At least for a few hours he could forget the detriment of his life and, moreover, slumber would come easier under the effects of alcohol. It was, Ross considered, better than the feeling of guilt and disgust he was left with after having sex with Elizabeth. He would never say that aloud to anyone, the mere thought of it made him ashamed, but he could not undo the past. Not that night of May, not the nights he spent on top of Elizabeth after he had come back from Exeter. It was the first rush of anger which spurred him to bed Elizabeth once again. The image of that man; his hands touching his wife’s skin... It was outrageous. It didn't mean anything to her, their marriage, their household, their family, neighbors. Him. He had given her everything. All that he had was hers and she had tossed it all to the air for one indiscretion, one night of madness and sorrow overcame hundreds shared together. And to think he had been sick of worry not knowing where they were, what she might be doing to stay alive. Turned out she was doing exactly what she knew how to do. A new house, a new master. She would seduce him and her into his bed, just as she did with him.

It dawned on him about that long ago day at the fair, it was he who saved her but it could have been anyone. Would she have found another home to make her own, another husband who looked after her? It would appear so if she managed so easily to woo another gentleman. And if she so very much believed that Elizabeth was the one he wanted, perhaps he did so too. There was no denying. He had always been attracted to her. He had fallen in love with her since the first moment he saw her. Would he not be with her if she had not married Francis? Would he not be with her if he was not married to Demelza? Well, Demelza was not there anymore. So he took what everyone told him was his.

But with the passage of time, the anger of those first days had subsided and with it his desire for Elizabeth. He didn't know exactly when but at some point he had started to avoid her. Leaving early in the mornings, staying at the mine the whole day. Trips to Truro, meetings with people he had no business meeting with, his “kin”. It amazed him and disgusted him in equal measure what a little money could do. He had been an outcast, a rebel, a Jacobine who didn't have any regard for the law. But now he was the owner of a prosperous mine, they suddenly remembered that the name Poldark had been gentle for generations and now they welcomed him with open arms. It didn't matter that he almost went to the gallows for inciting a riot or that he broke into a prison to free a condemned man, no matter what he did to his wife… But Ross had accepted their invitations nonetheless, it kept his mind busy from… from his life.

And Elizabeth, she had said nothing about his absence from her bed. There had been some terrible discoveries as a result of his nights with her. He had realized he did not want her. And it was not her fault.  He knew it was not her doing. She had welcomed him into her bed with open arms, had been passionate enough in the act itself, but something was amiss for him nevertheless. After they were over, after the… intercourse, he found emptiness, a void in the core of his being that only increased as each night passed. The urge to leave her, to not want to be touched, to not bestowed any caress, any compliment or word of love, it upset him. So different, it was so different from when he made love to Demelza. When they both melded together as one, loving each other not just from the sex but also with their kissing lips, caressing hands. Both reaching to bring the other even closer, trying to make the moment last forever. And afterward, when they were both contented but not nearly satisfied because they both needed more, needed to keep touching each other, still wanted to be closer and he would kiss her and Demelza would moan his name and rest her head on his chest for him to hold her through the night. He had forfeited all that night, and before. He had abandoned his wife's company for Elizabeth’s. He would be painfully honest with himself and admit that. And now Demelza didn't want him anymore, how could she? She wanted another, she reached for another. How could she do that too?

Yet regardless of Demelza's actions, the matter remained. The matter of Elizabeth and what he felt for her now. She had been his first love, he would not deny that, and he had wronged her. When he went to her when he found she had promised to marry George, and again later when he had not returned to confront his actions. And now, he was in the wrong with her now, by allowing her to stay at his house knowing about people gossips, and how it tainted her good name by remaining there for something that wasn't worth it, something that never existed.

_‘Sawle.’_ – he lied. His voice hoarse and his mouth bitter from the drink.

_‘And yesterday? And the day before?’_ Elizabeth said, still covered by the shadows. Ross was still somewhat inebriated, the gallop home was never enough to ginger him up and he preferred it that way.  But now he struggled to regain focus, her voice demanded it so, and he intended to listen to her. For a moment at least. Out of the fog that surrounded him, he saw her move in a corner.

_‘What are you doing? Were you playing?’_ – His voice charged when he realized Elizabeth was sitting by the spinet. He tried to get further into the room but the darkness and the alcohol numbing his senses betrayed him and he stumbled to a chair and merely avoided falling by gripping tight to the table. And ironic gasp escaped from Elizabeth’s lips.

_‘I’ve never thought you could bring yourself so low, Ross. Drinking, avoiding taking care of your responsibilities…’_

_‘Get up from there. Get up!’_ – he yelled at her when she did not move. Elizabeth stood up, and he could see her bathed under the moonlight coming through the windows. Her face was still noble but with an edge of roughness and exasperation he had not seen before, or she had not showed him. _‘Do not ever play the spinet, do you understand Elizabeth?’_

_‘Why not? Do you think she will ever come back here and play for you once more? Do you really believe I want anything that it was hers first? All I wanted was for us to have what we always dreamed of when we were young. The promises we made, I came here to comply with them. We can have everything, Ross. And yet you choose to drink away your fortune… Look around you, this place is falling apart! You cannot elude your responsibilities far longer…’_

_‘You were never my responsibility, Elizabeth.’_

_‘And what do you want from me then? What am I doing here? Do you expect me to sit all day in a derelict cottage, unable to touch anything she touched, waiting with supper ready for you to come drunk and wasted every night like I was a… a kitchen maid?’_

That sobered Ross up. He could see a fear reached her eyes the moment she said the words. He struggled to contain his anger and couldn't say a word for a few tense moments. He couldn't fathom the deep trepidation that swallowed Elizabeth but he got a glimpse of it when he raised his arm and she gave a quick step back. _‘That's the door Elizabeth.’_ – he said, pointing at it – _‘You are free to leave as soon as you like.’_ Then he went to the stairs, leaving Elizabeth with an expression on her face like he would have actually slapped her.

_‘Is that all?’_ He heard her plea when he was concentrated on climbing the stairs to his room, a growing headache bumping in his head.

That was the last time he saw Elizabeth. By the time he came back home the next day she was no longer there.

Another letter came to Nampara weeks later. And then another. He never replied but it was some sort of comfort reading about Jeremy and that he was well. Armitage had included a portrait of the boy in one of his letters, he never mentioned Demelza though. Ross assumed it was odd enough to exchange correspondence with his wife’s lover. Still, he believed it was her choice, still hadn't grown out of his jealousy and anger. Anger at her or at him, he didn't know. His life continued very much the same for months, suspended in a continuous routine that prevented him from having the time to think, to remember. Or at least that was what he intended for there were things that were unavoidable to escape from. Nampara, to begin with. What had once been a loving home and shelter for a small family now gloomed under the disregard of a neglected master. Ross would admit that it was worse than when he came home from America. But then he had had the heart and the willingness to reshuffle the ancient building, now not so much. He couldn't escape the villagers’ rumours either. After the word got out that Elizabeth was no longer at Nampara there were a few of them that dared to ask him when Mistress Demelza was going to be back. Well, the “Mistress” was quite content sleeping in someone else's bed, thank you for asking. He didn't say that of course.

But what Ross really couldn't escape from was himself. Not matter how much alcohol he drowned himself in, nor how much time he spent in the mine or in the boatyard he had recently invested in. No matter the meetings with Sir Francis Basset or Lord Falmouth, the guilt and shame that corroded him followed him everywhere. How could he go back to Demelza after all he did? How should he explain to her what he did if he did not understand it himself? Why would she want to be with such a sullen and noxious man when she was so obviously cared and cherished for by a respectable gentleman?

Ross had not made much of Armitage last letter. In his last sentence he had mentioned it would take longer than usual for him to write the next one, that he was having some difficulty with his sight, but when days got brighter he would be alright and would write him again. There was a letter from Exeter waiting for him one day when he came home. It was not from Hugh but from Dwight Enys.

 

_Ross,_

_As you know when I left Cornwall it was because I accepted a position in Devon, which is where I've been since the last time we saw each other. It is the bane of my profession that I may find myself busy everywhere I go, as much as won't like it. As it is, I managed to make myself a respectable name in this new place and for that my services had been required by some of the local gentry in the county. A couple of months ago I was asked to see a patient of one of the most influential families in Exeter. My patient was Hugh Armitage. I trust the name is not alien to you. When I saw him for the first time he had lost his sight entirely already but the reason why I was called was to tend to his growing headaches. I imagine you already suspect who I found there. Demelza was at his side when I checked on him. You must imagine my surprise when I found her there.  She pleaded to me not to write to you then and told me you already knew her whereabouts. Ross… I cannot still comprehend what overcame you, what she said, that you’re now living with Elizabeth. I gave her my word at that time that I would not interfere in your lives, but this is why I must break my promise._

_As I said, when I tended Armitage for the first time he was already blind. He was suffering from severe pains on his head and no one could surmise the root of his pains nor the consequences. As I found out then, he had served in the British Army as a Lieutenant and in a skirmish he’d received a hard blow to the head. The army’s physician looked over him then but didn’t determine any serious injuries but it was since then that his sight began failing. Then  I concluded, where his headaches came from too. There was not much I could prescribe beyond rest and fresh air._

_You might be wondering why am I being so open with details about a patient’s health. Ross, I was called again this morning. Apparently, he had a stern attack last night. He was dead when I got there._

Ross ran to the barn without finishing reading the letter. He saddled Darkie in a rush, the horse restless and anxious from his master’s rough hands and mood.

_They told me Demelza remained by his side the whole night.  His mother said she was very close to him. The reason I’m writing this letter Ross, despite my word and my disapproval of your actions, is that I cannot find her. She was not here when I arrived and no one seemed to know where she is.  And I thought it would be fair for you to know that your wife and child are no longer here. Thought you might be interested in that._

_Dr. Dwight Enys_

_August 14 th 1795 _

* * *

 

JULY 1799

Ross woke up slowly to the rattle of carriages, the snorting of the horses and the noise of people passing under his window in a street that was coming to life. The room was already illuminated, even though someone had closed the curtains, light crept from behind it. Ross sat down slowly on the sofa where he had slept, his body complaining and with a tingling in the arm on which he had slept on. He ran his hand over his face to finish waking and looked around searching for Demelza. He could almost still feel the warmth of her body next to his. He had reached for her under the surreptitious veil of the night’s darkness, had brought her closer to him and to his amazement she had not rejected his clumsy act of nearness.  In fact, she had surrounded his body with her own arms and had rested her head on the crook of his neck. No more words were spoken between them after that, just the silent puff and rustle as they both tried to get comfortable to sleep in such a cumbersome couch. But she hadn’t gestured her intentions of coming back to bed with Jeremy and instead had remained there, embracing him and he was not going to be the one to disrupt such a yearned intimacy.

Demelza was nowhere to be seen but he found Jeremy still sleeping on his bed. Trying not to wake him, he washed and changed his clothes. A quick peek through the window showed him a clear sky.  The street had been unblocked during the night. For some reason, albeit he fully well knew the reason, his heart was beating fast. Something had happened last night, in the early hours of the day, he’d felt it in the air. Demelza caring for his ailing foot, her brazen pose when she stood in front of him in just his shirt, he couldn’t but remember those early days of their marriage when one of his well-worn shirts was all she had to sleep in. He remembered how he used to love seeing her bare legs, the same delight he had felt to see them the night before. He wondered if she had felt the same too. All those years apart, could it be possible he loved her even more now? She told him that he couldn't feel the same after all those years, after everything that had come to pass between them and while they were apart. That she was different and he didn't know her anymore to feel that way for her. And perhaps it was true, she had obviously changed. Had grown into a capable, independent woman.  Somewhere inside him there was a sting in his pride that she had come to blossom while he was away, because he was away.  But for the most part, he was so proud of her. If anything else, Jeremy was proof enough of her gentle character. He had spent a lot of time with him lately, more time than when he was little and living under his own roof, he was ashamed to admit. The boy was clever and perceptive and had developed an admiration for him that he was sure did not deserve. He was well educated and with amiable manners, most of them he could see he had learnt from Demelza, others were plainly influenced by someone else. Demelza had mentioned him in a couple of occasions. Hugh Armitage. Ross hadn't wanted to dwell on him much of late. The man was dead, an unchangeable fact of life and it hadn't mattered much to him since he found his family again, but he knew he would have to face that ghost if things enhanced in his relationship with Demelza. He would have to know how much of her heart belonged to Hugh Armitage.

He was able to hear the chatter as soon as he came out of his room and was coming down the stairs. When he reached the ground floor he stood next to the wall listening to the voices coming from the kitchen. One was from Mrs. Parkins, she appeared to be telling an anecdote about her son, the singing laughter was from Demelza. They seemed to be baking since a mouth-watering smell came from the room. He couldn't but follow the delicious aroma. Ross cleared his throat before bearing good mornings to the ladies. They were looking into a stewpot, Demelza slowly stirring something on the fire. They both turned around to look at him, a shy smile on Demelza's lips that he made his best to return. It was Mrs. Parkins who spoke first.

_‘Good morning to you Captain Poldark. Breakfast for you and little master Jeremy will be served soon, though I'm afraid your wife's preserve won't be ready yet. I was telling her how you don't have much of a sweet tooth so she’s showing me how to make it the way you like it. I'll go put the boiler on the other stove.’_ – she said and gave him a queer look when she passed next to him and left him alone with Demelza.

She hadn’t stopped stirring the pot and was half turned to him. _‘Good morning, Demelza.’_ He said again, the smile still painted on her face.

_‘Good morning, Ross.’_

When they were married, when they lived together that is, he would have approached her and given her a kiss on the cheek, sometimes he would kiss her mouth. Lately their morning's greetings occurred when he went to her house and he would accompany it with a kiss on her hand, a gesture she could hardly reject as it was only the manners of a proper gentleman towards a lady. But this morning he found himself with the urge to go back to his old means, and he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to place his hand on her waist and spin her around and taste her lips. Was it not his right? She was his wife after all... He knew he could not. She would crown him if he tried something like that. In his hesitation the moment passed and Demelza went back to focus on the pot, which she removed from the fire and kept stirring.

_‘Mrs. Parkins seems quite agreeable.’_ Demelza said to him.

_‘You mean you enchanted her.’_ – he replied with a catty smiled and a cheeky voice. Demelza turned her head a gave him a raised eyebrow – _‘I always suspected that the two of you would get along if you were to meet.’_

_‘Did you? She speaks very fondly of you. Though I think she's a bit disgruntled with this… situation.’_

Ross didn't have time to ask what the situation was exactly as Mrs. Parkins returned with the hot water.

_‘Oh, you've taken it out of the fire, my dear.’_

“My dear.” Ross thought. Of course, Demelza hadn’t lost her touch with people. Just a few hours and she could have anyone dancing around her finger. He wanted to dance around her too. He was determined to do his best, to give her all the time she needed and would conform with any crumb of affection she would give him. He had craved for her company for so long, these last few weeks were nothing but a blessing. After a quivering encounter and its subsequent days in which Ross had not been able to close an eye at nights thinking Demelza could escape at any moment.  He had sincerely considered posting a guard at the corner of the alley where they lived to make sure she would still be there when he went the next morning, he had decided not to do it. She had told him that she would not leave and he had accepted her word. Actually, Ross had never had any reason to doubt her except, of course, the fact that she had left without telling him a word, had hidden and run away from him when she thought he might go and look for her again. But she had not broken her word then, she had acted accordingly to a fault of his. And regarding the other, well, who was he to judge her?  But she had not left. He did not know what to think about it at the beginning. Not for Demelza herself, only, in all this time when Ross had been imagining where she could be, this scenario had not crossed his mind at all. Over the past few weeks, Ross had realized how deeply Demelza's life was rooted now to London. Not just for Jeremy, Prudie and Garrick! Yes, Garrick. She had a house of her own in the city, she had friends, a business of her own and people who depended on her. At best, he had thought, Armitage would have given her enough money to live humbly somewhere in the interior of the country. Or he would have sent them to some distant relative for whom Demelza could work. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had never imagined Demelza as the successful owner of a modest company in the middle of the largest city in the world. And he was not sure if that spoke about her or about how he had underestimated her. Armitage had believed her capable and had given her the tools for her to build her life. What had he given her?  But seeing her working day after day, listening to her talk about her employees and how she was interested in them and how she had reacted when he tried to help her - big mistake - Demelza reminded him of someone. She reminded him of himself. And day after day his chest was filled with pride to see her work for her and her family, and for all those who depended on her. There were two Demelzas again. Just as the beginning of their marriage. Now there was the Demelza that he knew, the one he had lived with, married and shared the fortunes and misfortunes in life. The one he had wronged, the one betrayed and hurt and who still distrusted him. And then there was this other Demelza, a young successful entrepreneur. Sure of herself and of her place in the world from which so many people depended on. Graceful and with a ladylike semblance proper of a city woman. This Demelza was not mad at him.  He could feel it when they talked and share walks in the park. She was polite with him, smiled at him when he tried to be amusing, she conversed with him and told him about her day and about her life. _Her_ life. It unnerved him. This Demelza. She threw him completely off balance. Because this new Demelza had lived without him for almost five years. Because he didn’t know what this Demelza wanted, because he didn’t know if this Demelza loved somebody else. Because he didn’t know if this Demelza could love him. She had said that to him.

_‘I think I will go to wake up Jeremy so I can take him home before going to the shop.’_ – Demelza said, taking him out of his reverie.            

He cleared his throat again before speaking. _‘Why don’t you let him sleep a little longer while we have breakfast?’_

_‘Oh… I’ve already eaten.’_

_‘Oh.’_ – he said faltering – _‘You should have woken me.’_

_‘I thought you needed sleep. Figured you didn’t have much rest last night. Because of your leg, I mean.’_

Ross tried hard not to show the smile that was hidden behind his lips and didn’t know if Demelza had caught sight of it.

_‘That was kind of you. Thank you.’_

_‘I’ll go wake up Jeremy.’_

_‘He had an exciting day yesterday, let him sleep late.’_ He sneakily tried to prevent her from leaving once more.

_‘But Mrs. Parkins already called for the carriage, and he must have breakfast first.’_

A disappointed look crossed Ross’ eyes for a fleeting second and he saw it reflected in Demelza’s face as well. _‘I have to go to the shop now, but maybe you can take Jeremy back to my place later?’_

 

* * *

 

_‘Captain Poldark! You have a lot of explaining to do.’_ Mrs. Parkins snarled at him the moment Demelza was gone. _‘Imagine having such a fine lady as a wife and leaving her alone during all this time! And me? Trying to find you a wife? Didn’t cross your mind to tell me, Sir?’_

_‘Mrs. Parkins,’_ – Ross said – _‘things are a little bit more complicated than you imagine.’_

_‘Oh, I can imagine a great deal Sir, I tell you that. But of course, you won’t say a word…’_ – Ross, in fact, remained quiet. – _‘and is not really my place to ask. But such a nice young woman… and kind. She has a shop in town she says?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘She told me she can employ my niece. She’s been looking for a decent place to work for ages. Remember I told you about her? She has a little boy, a bit younger than yours. And she too is without a husband.’_ – Ross resented the “too” – _‘I hope you don’t think I’m intruding, but when she said she has a business…’_

_‘I’m sure Demelza wouldn’t have said so if she wouldn’t need to. She currently finds herself with a large order, an extra pair of hands might be of use to her.’_

_‘Good, good. I will consider the circumstances even then. But don’t you think that I’ll forget that you deceived me Captain Poldark, or that I didn’t notice the lack of a ring on your wife’s hand. Whatever it is you’ve done, you’ll have to make it good for her.’_ Mrs. Parkins finished her speech with a pointed finger towards him.

_‘I’ll intent to, Mrs. Parkins.’_

_‘Good. Now go and wake up your boy while I serve your breakfast.’_

 

* * *

      

_‘Mama, mama! Dad is sick!’_

That was Jeremy's greeting to his mother as soon as she stepped into the house. Demelza glanced at him quickly, a concerned look on her face.

_‘I'm not sick.’_ – he said, denying it with his head as well as his hands. He had been dozing in one of the armchairs since they got to her house. They slight soreness with which he had woken up that morning had grown to be an ardent swelling in his throat.

_‘Aunt Marianne!’_ – Jeremy squealed, as the women came into the parlour. After taking off her cloak Demelza came near him.

_‘Are you unwell?’_ – her voice sounded small and worried.

_‘I am alr…’_ Ross tried to reassure her again but was interrupted by a cough. In his distraction, Demelza brought her hand to his forehead.

_‘You're a little warmed. I'll fetch you a tea with some honey.’_

_‘There's no need. It's nothing, I assure you.’_ – He said, still with some difficulty due to the cough and how dry his throat was.

Jeremy had remained by the door talking with his “Aunt”, Prudie had already made her way to the kitchen. _‘I only came to bid you good evening, Jer.’_ – _‘But you can stay for dinner!’_ – The boy said. Marianne seemed to consider his invitation for a moment, but seeing him at the parlour and Demelza already busy around, she declined. – _‘Another day maybe. How about if I take you to somewhere this weekend so mama can rest a while?’ – ‘Can we go to the theatre?’ – ‘Yes, if you wish to. It's a plan then.’_

When Demelza came back to the living room Marianne told her that she was leaving. _‘So soon? Don't you want to stay for dinner?’_

_‘Maybe some other time. Good night, bye Jer, goodbye Prudie!’_ – she yelled in the direction to the kitchen – _‘Goodnight Mr. Poldark.’_

Not trusting his voice, Ross waved to her goodbye. Jeremy and Demelza walked her out and through the open door he heard his son say _‘It's Captain Poldark. Right mama?’_ – he didn't hear what Demelza answered.

A moment later they were back inside. Jeremy told Demelza how his father had been coughing and breathing funny the whole afternoon and Ross, with his pride a bit wounded, tried to deny it. Ross drank his tea with honey together with Jeremy who drank his milk. Then Demelza sent the boy upstairs to read a book.

_‘He needs to get back to his classes.’_ – she said to him – _‘We are close to finishing with the order, maybe next week I could stay home a couple of mornings to teach him.’_

_‘We could hire a “dudor”’_ – His voice, much to his own embarrassment, went out nasal and sticky. Demelza went back to touch his forehead, her fingers resting a moment on his cheeks, measuring his temperature. Ross closed his eyes at her touch. He felt, in fact, quite poorly. But he knew it was only a cold and didn't want to make a fuss over it.

_‘Yesterday’s rain?’_ – he heard her ask, suddenly his eyelids felt heavy and sleepy. He just nodded.

_‘You ought to rest.’_

_‘Perhaps you’re right. I think I'll go back to my lodgings.’_ his voice again sounding low and aphonic. In his sleepiness he didn't realize Demelza was still standing in front of him, her hands lightly resting on his shoulders.

_‘Why don't you… why don't you stay here for a while longer? I’ll prepare a posset and a pot with hot water to help you with your breathing. You can go rest in the guest room until dinner is ready.’_

He would not reject an invitation to stay in Demelza's but the idea of laying down immediately was what appealed to him more at that moment. He nodded not trusting his voice anymore and stood, and when he did so her hands fell from his shoulders right into his. They held each other for a brief second and then Demelza seemed to remind herself of something and broke their touch giving a step back.

_‘Do you know where it is?’_ – she said, her voice as low as his. – _‘I'll be there in a moment with the posset.’_

When Demelza went upstairs to the guest room she found Ross half sleeping above the blankets. _‘Judas, Ross!’_ she cried while putting down a tray over the little table next to the bed. – _‘Worst than a child.’_ – she muttered under her breath. She pushed his body to take the blankets from beneath him. He helped a little by moving his legs at one side.  At least he had taken of his boots. She helped him to get rid of the coat and unbuttoned his waistcoat. Some part of him was finding all of this quite amusing, but for the most part, he was embarrassed by the whole situation. Finally, she managed to put him under the covers and urged him to rest on the bedside and sit so he could take his posset and inhale the vapour before it grew cold. Ross drank the hot milk Demelza gave him and to which she had added ale, honey, and some other spices he could not identify. He felt the relief almost immediately, the liquid softening his dry throat and warming his lungs. Next was the pot of hot water. Demelza placed the tray with the pot over his legs and covered his head with a cloth. The vapour smell of thyme and elder, at least that's what he sensed after a few inhalations. By the end, he felt his airways relieved and he could breathe a little bit easier.

_‘Rest for a while,’_ – Demelza said – ‘ _I'll let you know when supper is ready.’_ Ross looked at her but said nothing. Silently she tucked him under the covers and he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

The next thing Ross heard, or rather felt, was a weight climbing on the bed next to him. He woke up gradually, he had slept overly comfortable in that bed. He smelt the pillows and realized that he could actually do that, the sheets’ scent familiar and inciting. The weight moved again on top of him and after a quiet _‘Shhh’_ and a _‘Gentle, Jeremy’_ that came from Demelza, he felt the little hand of his son tapping on his covered shoulder.

_‘Papa, papa wake up. I came to wish you good night.’_

_‘Uhm… what? What time is it?’_ He asked, propping himself from under the covers.

_‘It's time for Jeremy to go to bed.’_ – Demelza was standing next to the bed, with another hot dish resting on the bedside table.

_‘Do you feel better papa?’_ – Jeremy asked with concern clearly written in his features.

_‘Yes, Jeremy. You needn't worry. It was just a small cold, I feel much better now.’_ His voice was still a little coarse, but for the rest he felt much better after the nap.

_‘Say goodnight to your father, Jeremy and go to bed. I'll be there in a moment.’_ The boy reached over the blankets and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

_‘Good night papa. I hope you feel better in the morning.’_

Ross bid him good night and watched him leave the room confused.

_‘I thought you were going to wake me up for dinner.’_ – He said to Demelza once he was gone.

_‘I thought you needed rest. Do you really feel better now?’_

_‘I do.’_ Ross didn't know what to do. He could see by the window it was very late, and he ought to go, he had never stayed at her house until this hour. Yet Demelza appeared to be in no hurry for him to leave.

_‘I brought soup and some salve for your chest. You can put it on before you go to bed again.’_

_‘Thank you, Demelza. I'll eat and then I'll go back to my place.’_

_‘Oh.’_ – she said and Ross looked at her.- _‘You can stay here if you want. For tonight. The night is a bit chilly, maybe you should stay in so you don't make your cold grow worst.’_

Ross' lips curved in a half a smile. If she offered, he was not going to refuse.

_‘You must think I'm old and weak for me to catch a cold after just getting a little rain.’_

_‘Well,’_ – she said while stirring whatever it was on the pot. – _‘I'm more concerned about you not taking care of yourself. Mrs. Parkins told me how little you eat, how you seem not to care about your wellbeing. She's concerned about you and I don't want to send you to her after just one day of meeting her with a cold. What would she think of me?’_

Ross chuckled and then said, _‘You are concerned about me too.’_ It was not necessarily a question so Demelza didn't reply.

_‘Have your supper and then go back to sleep Ross. Here, put this on first.’_ – Demelza gave him the salve she had brought and Ross wavered on what to do. The ointment in his hand, he looked at Demelza for some indication. – _‘Judas, Ross!’_

She took the small can from his hand again and went to sit beside him. Ross didn't say a word while she moved the blankets off his torso and started to untie his cravat. He forgot about his cold, the air suddenly reaching his nose filled with her scent. He stood still, didn't think himself capable of any movement when she unbuttoned his shirt. Just a gasp when she took a little salve on her fingers and slid her hand under the collar of his shirt to spread it on his chest. Ross closed his eyes, the fragrance changing to a smell of herbs and the heat taking hold of his chest and he couldn't figure if it was from the salve or because of something else. Or rather he could. Demelza kept rubbing his torso in slow and soothing motion and for a fleeting moment, Ross pretended to be back in Cornwall, when he lived a simple life. When he had a wife who loved him and cared for him and he was free to love her back. The moment was gone when a moan escaped his lips and Demelza's hand froze on his chest. He opened his eyes again and was quick enough to catch her hand on his before she could remove it from his chest. He could feel the fast beating of his heart on his hand and knew she could feel it too because her hand was right above it. It was an almost imperceptible motion but he felt her fingers flex on his skin and slightly caress his chest hair. Who would have thought? So much time thinking he would never see her again and here she was. He on her bed and she next to him, her jade colour eyes looking at his, their hands interlaced together. He risked touching a lock of red hair but Demelza did not move. _‘Your soup is getting cold and I must see to Jeremy’_ – she said after a while. And, still holding her hand to his heart, he dared to touch her face, tracing her cheeks with the back of his fingers. It was Demelza who closed her eyes then, and she leaned into his touch.

_‘You're so beautiful.’_ – he whispered. His voice was hoarse but not from the cold. He kept caressing her face and took her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Suddenly Demelza seemed to realize their compromising demeanor and sat back on the bed pulling away from him. He followed her, straightening his back as well and reaching for her hand again.

_‘Ross…’_ – Ross kissed her again. Her palm, wrist. He could tell she was going to start protesting and so he moved his head from one side to the other, denying.

_‘No.’_ – he placed another kiss on the back of her hand. - _‘What you are about to say, that we are strangers and I don't know you anymore so I can't love you, is not so. I missed you, Demelza. I miss my friend, my wife. But I also have come to know this new person you have become without me in the little time we spent together… Demelza, I'm so proud of you. You have bewitched me body and soul. I'm in love with you. Can’t you believe me, dear?’_

Demelza shifted on the bed but didn't let go of his hand. She did not stop looking at him either.

_‘Ross…’_ – she said for the first time in the way she used to – _‘I think… I think I can believe you. But…’_

He did not let her finished. It was an impulse, an instinct rooted in him as necessary as breathing. And like a man who was close to drowning and found himself on the shallow and could gasp for air, he drew closer and kissed her. His mouth against hers, unmoving first until he felt her mouth quiver and then he responded as well. His hands holding her face in place, their lips savouring the never forgotten taste of the other. Ross felt her own hands grasp his upper arms, her lips sweetly fondling his. Kissing and cuddling until they both were out of breath.

It was Demelza the one who broke apart. – _‘Ross.’_ – she gasped but he kept kissing her face. – _‘Ross. I'm sorry, I didn't mean…’_

_‘Mmm?... What you didn't mean?’_ – He whispered against her skin.

_‘To… to do this. Stop, Ross, stop it.’_

He let her go immediately.

_‘I’m sorry.’_ – he said as she dropped her gaze from his. _‘God. Demelza. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have…’_

Demelza looked up to him again and for his astonishment she ran her hand through his temple, casting aside a lock of curls that had fallen over his face.

_‘Don't be sorry, Ross. I wanted… You’ve never said such things to me before.’_

Ross raised his eyebrows, not understanding. – _‘What things?’_

_‘That you're in love with me, that you're proud. Or even… even that you think I'm beautiful.’_

_‘Surely I did.’_

_‘No. Not with such words. I believe the years in the house have made you more eloquent...’_ She smiled at him and Ross brought her hand back to his lips.

_‘I love you, Demelza. And I want to be with you. Whatever faults I made in the past I will not repeat them. You and Jeremy are the most important, the only thing that matters to me.’_ – He wanted to know, he wanted to ask “Do you not love me?” “Has someone else stolen your heart?”, but he did not dare. – _‘Can we not try?’_

What he would have given to know what was going through Demelza's mind. Her eyes were sparkling under the candlelight. He squeezed her hand, still connected.

_‘I don’t know, Ross. I do want to be with you, I think. But not as before, it cannot be as before because I'm not that woman anymore. Maybe… maybe we can be something else. Maybe we can be sweethearts.’_

_‘Sweethearts?... But you're my wife.’_

_‘I'm really not. I cannot just jump into your arms as easily. Can't let you back into our lives as it was because how it was, in the end, it was not good. It was not what I wished from a husband, from our marriage. And I am not sure yet if I even want it.’_

He stared at her, his throat dry again and the soup already cold in the bedside table next to them.

_‘Us being sweethearts… what would that imply?’_

_‘I… I don't rightly know. I've never been courted before. I've never had a man pursue me.’_

The thought of Armitage crossed his mind, did he not “pursue" her? as she said. But for the most, his memory took him long before that. To his wedding to Demelza. How many weeks did he wait to marry her? Three weeks, only just enough for the bans to be read. He had never courted her. Never paid her any compliments, nor had taken her to walk through fancy gardens and tried to steal a forbidden kiss before they were married. They had gone from master and servant to man and wife from day to night. But he came to realized that he wanted to share all those things with her now. Wanted for her to be sure of his love and appreciation for her, and he desperately wanted for her to fall in love with him again.

_‘So, if I were to ask you to come for a walk with me this weekend, just you and me, would you say yes?’_

_‘I believe I would, Ross.’_

_‘Very well. We have a date then.’_

_‘I believe we have. Now, I'll go to see Jeremy and then I'll bring the soup heated again.’_ – she placed a kiss on his forehead when she stood.

_‘Thank you, dear Demelza.’_ – He said and buried once more under the blankets, smiling and with his heart thumping in his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments, kudos are much appreciated... There're only two chapters left!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope you like it. As always, I usually feel attracted to write stories with Ross and Demelza coming together again. This time, each chapter will be from a different character point of view, you know, like the series, The Affair?  
> Also, I have to say that as I'm not from England, nor even a native English speaker, you'll have to be very indulgent with my historical inaccuracies...


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